§0i
EXCURSIONS
IN IRELAND
DURING 1844 AND 1850.
WITH A VISIT TO
THE LATE DANIEL CTCONNELL, M.P.
BY
CATHERINE M. O'CONNELL.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1852.
.mnvr nOT
.LEGE LIBBA1
LONDON;
Printed by Samuel Bentley and Co.
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.
ZDAW
018
INSCRIBED TO
A. M. O'R. D.
WITH AN EARNEST GRATEFUL AFFECTION.
1 8 1 4
urfcTOH COLLEGE VS
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Introductory . . . 1
CHAPTER I.
Voyage from England to Ireland. — Arrival at Kings-
town.— Description of Kingstown Harbour. — Irish Cars.
— Drive from Kingstown. — Dalkey Obelisk. — Village of
Bray. — Excursion to the Dargle. — Picturesque Country.
— " Uncivilized Irish." — Beggars. — Powerscourt Water-
Fall 3
CHAPTER II.
The Scalp. — Lough Bray. — Enter Dublin. — Dublin
Beggars. — Stephen's Green. — Foundation of Dublin. —
Contrast between London and Dublin. — Irish Improvi-
dence. — Trinity College. — Bank of Ireland. — Royal
Dublin Society's House. — St. Vincent's Hospital. —
Sisters of Charity. — Viceroy of Ireland . . .12
CHAPTER III.
State Trials. — History of the famous Proclamation
and Prosecutions. — Monster Meeting. — Clontarf Meet-
ing.— Imprisonment of Mr. O'Connell.— Richmond Peni-
tentiary.— Visit to Mr. O'Connell in Prison. — " Honest
Tom Steele." — Gaiety of Dinner Parties at the Prison. —
" Seditious Poetry." — Mr. O'Connell's Declarations on
the State Trials. — Visit to Conciliation Hall . . 20
Vlll CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
Journey from Dublin to Limerick. — Curragh of Kil-
dare. — Scene at a Munster Hamlet. — Limerick Belles
and Bells. — Legend of the Bells. — Siege of Limerick. —
Voyage to Tarbert. — Deep Green of the Fields. — De-
scription of " Kingdom of Kerry." — Lislaghlin Abbey.
— " Funerals Performed.*' — A Country Funeral. —
Keeners . . . . . .30
CHAPTER V.
History of Kerry. — Abundance of Game and Fish. —
Mines. — Marble. — Diamonds. — Pearls. — Description of
Ballybunian and Scenery. — Legend of the Circular Hole
near Doon. — The Devil's Castle. — Volcanoes. — Nivage.
— Soiree Dansante in a Cave. — Horse-race. — Fatal Fac-
tion Fight. — View from Knockanure . . ,40
CHAPTER VI.
Ride to Tralee. — Notions regarding Round Towers.
— Ruins of Ancient Buildings. — Policy of the English
Invaders. — Legend of Ball yh eigne. — Ardfert Cathedral
and Abbey. — Tralee. — Description of the Arrangements
in the Poor-house at Tralee . . . .51
CHAPTER VII.
Temperance Society Concert in Tralee. — Chalybeate
Spa near Tralee. — View from Cahirconrigh. — Danish-
like Entrenchment. — Dingle. — Danish Forts. — Raths. —
Most Westerly Point of Europe. — Blasquet Islands. —
Drenched with Rain. — Religious Zeal. — Cure for Effects
of Mountain Showers. — Ogham Characters. — Return to
Tralee ...... 65
CONTENTS. IX
CHAPTER VIII.
First View of Romantic Killarney. — (c Sweet Innis-
fallen.,'— Innisfallen Abbey.— O'Sullivan's Cascade.—
Glenaa.— Dinis Island. — The Arbutus of Killarney. —
Tore Lake. — Muckross Demesne. — Musical Echoes on
the Lakes ......
CHAPTER IX.
The Lakes revisited. — O'Donoghue's Prison. — Old
Weir Bridge. — Echoes of Killarney. — Effect of the Sin-
gle Bugle on the Echoes. — Lady Mulgrave and the
Wortleberries. — Long Range. — The Priest's Leap. —
Beautiful and Romantic Scenery. — Ronayne's Island. —
Preparations for a Fox-hunt. — Gap of Dunloe. — Melo-
dious Fox-hunt in the Gap. — Dinner in the Gap Hotel . 85
CHAPTER X.
Visit to Aghadoe Church and its populous Cemetery.
— Foundation of Aghadoe.— Ascent of Mangerton. —
Beautiful prospect. — Annoyance of Mountaineer Guides.
— Lough Kittane. — Peculiar Brown Trout.— Muckross
Abbey. — Tombs of the MacCarthy More and the O'Dono-
ghue More. — ''Drake, the Pilgrim." — Foundation of
Muckross Abbey. — Family of present Possessors. —
Muckross Demesne. — Revisit Muckross Abbey . 95
CHAPTER XI.
Stag-hunt in Loch Lein. — Red Deer. — Capture of the
Stag. — Ludicrous Close of the Hunt. — Revisit Glenaa.
— Peculiar Fashion of roasting Salmon. — Mirth and
Music. — Stag-hunt of other Days . . . 106
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XII.
PAGE
Excursion to Kenmare. — Druidical Circle at Lissa-
vigeen. — The Robber's Cave.— Kenmare Hotel. — Cas-
tellated Police Station. — Charming Scenery. — Bonfires
and Rejoicings for Mr. O'Connell's Liberation. — A
Mountain Excursion. — Tradition respecting Killalee
Church.— Hag's Glen. — Ascent of Carran Tual Moun-
tain.— Perdition Pass. — Scene from the Mountain-top.
— Ross Island. — Ross Castle.— Rural Rambles. — Thun-
der-storm among the Mountains . . .117
CHAPTER XIII.
The Wild-strawberry Girl of Killarney . .129
CHAPTER XIV.
The Wild-strawberry Girl of Killarney, continued . 137
CHAPTER XV.
Mr. O'Connell's Triumphant Entry into Killarney. —
Church of Killeegy. — Enthusiastic Reception of Mr.
O'Connell in Killarney. — Lakes of Carra. — Al Fresco
Dinner. — Lord Headley's Improvements. — The Parson
and the Priest. — The Road to Cahirciveen. — Birthplace
of Mr. O'Connell. — Ancient Battle-axes found. — Bally-
carbery Castle. — Dowlas Head Cave. — Valencia Island.
— Valencia Harbour. — The Skellig Islands. — Village
of Waterville. — Lake of Currane. — Wild Scenery near
Waterville. — Hare-hunt .... 146
CHAPTER XVI.
The Romance of a Day. — The Happy Family . 155
CONTENTS. XI
CHAPTER XVII.
PAGE
The Romance of a Day. — The Happy Family, con-
tinued . . . . . .164
CHAPTER XVIII.
Journey to Darrynane. — Superb Sea- view. — Perfect
Druid's Altar.— Situation of Darrynane.— Seclusion of
Darrynane. — Meet Mr.O'Connell. — Large mixed Dinner
Party. — Description of House of Darrynane. — Awakened
to go Hunting. — Two Hares Started. — Breakfast with
the {i Liberator." — Anecdote of Spanish hidden Trea-
sure.— Arrival of Post-bags. — Hunting resumed. — A
Fox-hunt. — Old Abbey of Darrynane. — Epitaph on the
Uncle of Mr. O'Connell.— Letter from Mr. O'Connell,
describing his Mountain-home . . .173
CHAPTER XIX.
Merry Parties at Darrynane. — Mr. O'Connell's Love
of Children. — Reflections in Darrynane Abbey. — Ruined
Church of Kilcrohane. — Gigantic Ash-tree. — Staigne
Fort. — Use of these Forts. — General Vallancey's and
Mr. Nimmo's Opinions. — Visit to Scariff Island. —
Ancient Hermitage. — Private Theatricals. — Prologue to
il She Stoops to Conquer." — Autograph refused to
Emperor of Russia. — Autographs granted to Others . 185
CHAPTER XX.
Mr.O'Connell invited to Limerick. — Farewell to
Darrynane. — Mr. O'Connell's Address to the People on
Cahirconrigh. — Mr. O'Connell's numerous Visitors. —
Anniversary of his Imprisonment. — Monster Meeting in
Killarney. — Procession of Trades. — Mr. O'Connell's
enthusiastic Reception. — Public Dinner. — Verses on
Mr. O'Connell 195
Xli CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXI.
Blackwater Bridge.— Demesne of Dromore. — Glengar-
riff. — Esk Mountain Tunnel. — French Invasions at Ban-
try Bay. — Lord Bantry's Cottage.— Drive to Castletown.
— Cromwell's Bridge. — Allihies Mines. — Tragedy at
Dunboy Castle. — The Wishing-rock on Dursey Island.
— Natural Advantages of Berehaven Harbour. — View
from Hungry Hill. — Legend of the Mountain Lakes. —
O'Sulli van's Possessions. — Town of Bantry. — Gongane-
Barra.— Mr. O'Connell's Popularity . . .203
CHAPTER XXII.
Brief Memoir of Daniel O'Connell . . .212
CHAPTER XXIII.
Brief Memoir of Daniel O'Connell, continued . 221
CHAPTER XXIV.
Voyage to Cork. — The Queen's Visit to Cork. — Con-
fusion on her unexpected Arrival. — The Beggars and
Vagrants could not be kept out of Sight. — The Shandon
Bells.— Cork, " the beautiful City."— Queen's College,
Cork. — Reflections on the " Godless Colleges." — Quays
of Cork. — Emigrating Vessels — Lamentations at leaving
Home . . • . . . .235
CHAPTER XXV.
Poverty in Ireland. — The Rich become Poor. — Melan-
choly Effects of the Potato Blight. — Fate of many
Farmers and Landed Proprietors. — Irish Want of Fore-
thought. — Instances. — Ireland now in a Transition
State. — Charitable Institutions in Cork. — Ladies'
Clothing Society. — Instances of its Benefits. — The Poor
Weaver ... ... 244
CONTENTS. Xlll
CHAPTER XXVI.
Neighbourhood of Cork. — Passage Railway. — Result
of late Failures in Cork.— Ursuline Convent. — Castle of
Blackrock. — Queenstovvn. — Carlisle Fort. — Rosstellan
Castle. — Family Record of Lady Thomond. — Inspection
of Queenstown. — Carrigrohane Castle. — Owner of Blar-
ney.— Blarney Castle. — Kissing the " Blarney Stone."
— Cold-water Cure Establishment. — Barryscourt Castle.
— King James II. — Footy. — Castle-martyr. — Round
Tower and Cathedral at Cloyne . . 252
CHAPTER XXVII.
Mesmeric Scayice. — Phreno-mesmerism. — Number of
Churches and Chapels in Cork. — Father Mathew's
Chapel. — Inscription to the Memory of Mr. O'Connell.
— Father Mathew's Cemetery. — Natural Advantages of
Cork. — Exports of Cork . . . .261
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The union of Charity . . . .269
CHAPTER XXIX.
Mallow. — Excellent Management of its Union Work-
house.— Youghal. — Cappoquin. — Visit to Mount Mel-
laray. — A Protestant Horse. — Monastery on Mount
Mellaray. — Arrangements of the Establishment . 282
CHAPTER XXX.
Lismore. — Fermoy. — Return to Dublin. — Falling off
in Trade. — Supposed Consequences of Abolishing the
Viceroyship. — Decrease in Population. — Emigration the
chief Cause. — Emigration likely to continue. — Love of
Fatherland. — Reflections on Emigration. . . 290
EXCURSIONS IN IRELAND
DURING 1844 AND 1850.
VOYAGE FROM ENGLAND TO IRELAND. 3
CHAPTER I.
VOYAGE FROM ENGLAND TO IRELAND. ARRIVAL AT KINGSTOWN.
DESCRIPTION OF KINGSTOWN HARBOUR. IRISH CARS.
DRIVE FROM KINGSTOWN. PALKEY OBELISK. VILLAGE OF
BRAY. EXCURSION TO THE DARGLE. PICTURESQUE COUNTRY.
— "UNCIVILIZED IRISH." BEGGARS. POWERSCOURT WATER-
FALL.
July, 1844.
The evening was most beautiful, calm and
clear ; the sea around the steamer breaking into
tiny waves sparkling in the beams of the glorious
setting sun. And now we turn to look on the
receding shores of Wales, and now on the still
distant hills of the Irish coast, coming more and
more clearly into view, and as we approach them,
beautifully defined against the cloudless western
horizon ; for a brief space an unbroken mass of
gold, and now fading into the soberer hues of
twilight, and then deepening into night. It was
a beauteous picture, and was likely to call up
varied thoughts of the past and the present, of
the two lands separated by that little span of
water; the one which we had left so singularly
B 2
4 ARRIVAL AT KINGSTOWN.
favoured by a prosperous fate ; the other we were
coming to, so bountifully blessed by nature, and so
tried by adversity ; both united by laws, as yet
by nothing more.
We pass the Kingstown light-house, and in a
few minutes are alongside the pier, and we touch
Irish ground near the spot where George IV.
embarked in 1821. Such a chorus of voices
greet our arrival, the strongly marked Dublin
accent forcibly striking the stranger's ear.
" Shall we take supper in Kingstown, or go
on at once to Dublin ! " asked a pallid-looking
traveller of his companion, both having been
invisible during our little voyage.
'Tm thinking, sir, you 11 have more mind for
it after the drive,'" said a merry-faced porter, as
he appropriated the querist's huge portmanteau
for his share.
A very short transit brought us to an excellent
hotel, and the traveller who could find fault with
it must be most fastidious. The morning sun
shone a welcome to us, and from the windows of
the hotel the view was delightful. Below the
harbour, quite full of shipping, here a merchant
vessel, and here a pretty yacht, with their sails
unfurled — one for business, the other for pleasure
— while combining both is the steamer smoking
away at the quay.
IRISH CARS. 5
Kingstown harbour was formed by the erection
of two piers, the eastern one said to be over
5000 feet long, and the western over 3000 ; the
first -named is the fashionable promenade, and a
walk in the early morning to the light-house
brought us to a lovely view ; the bay of Dublin,
at this hour, at least, like the far-famed bay of
Naples, to which it has so often been likened, in
the deep clear blue of its waters, stretching across
to the hill of Howth, still capped with a fleecy
morning cloud ; and returning towards Kingstown
the pretty town lies before us, the church, as it
ought to do, showing distinctly among the buildings
around it, and backed by the mountains, all look-
ing bright in the summer sunshine.
It is unanimously agreed that the day is too
fine to think of a dusty city, and instead of taking
the rail for Dublin, we order cars for Bray ; the
real Irish car, said to be so characteristic of the
soil, where the one view of the question guides
the parties that unfortunately divide the country.
Alas ! that each party should adhere so pertina-
ciously to its own side, and not turn round in a
friendly spirit to see the good that springs amid
the evil on every side of our paths through
life!
In the best dispositions towards mankind in
general, we mounted our cars ; and the word is
6 DALKEY OBELISK.
not misplaced, so high were the seats ; and we re-
warded our driver's first attempt at agreeability by
a hearty laugh, though the story was an old one.
" Perhaps the ladies don't know the difference
between an inside and an outside car ?" said Jem ;
" an Englishman once asked the question, and
he was tould that the inside car has the wheels
outside, and an outside car has the wheels in-
side:1
The drive from Kingstown to Bray was through
a very pretty country dotted over with villas in
every variety of suburban taste, and names rather
misplaced ; here a — Hall, judging by the house,
I should decide the so-called apartment could con-
tain two chairs, a hat, and perhaps umbrella-
stand ; and here we pass a — Park, of about four
acres in extent, from which a notice nailed to
a tree warns off all trespassers, or else " They
will be prosecuted with the utmost rigor of the
law."
The obelisk that we see on the hill over Dalkey
was erected many years ago by a benevolent in-
dividual to give relief and work at a time of dire
distress. " Why did he not build something use-
ful ?" asks the Joseph Hume of our party : " what
thoughtless and useless benevolence ! but it was
quite Irish."
Bray is a straggling village ; being near some
EXCURSION TO THE DARGLE.
of the beautiful scenery of the county Wicklow,
it is much frequented during the summer months,
and the drive from Kingstown to it is very agree-
able, the road now bringing us glimpses of the
blue sea, and sweet mountain views.
Our first excursion was to the Dargle, and we
loitered through it, enjoying the coolness of its
shade, the more adventurous amongst us climbing
down the steep sides to catch new views of the
noisy river, enclosed by such luxuriant woods,
the full rich sunshine streaming through them on
the glancing waters, and on the perpendicular
cliffs. The effect was beautiful.
On one side of this magnificent ravine is the
demesne of Tinnahinch, bought by the nation for
its independent orator, the late Henry Grattan.
From the Dargle to Powerscourt waterfall, we
came through a most picturesque country, admir-
able in its native beauty, but far more so in
the rural comfort of its little homesteads; save
for the mountains, we could fancy ourselves among
the " cottage homes" of southern England. There
was no appearance of poverty, and all around,
from the woman knitting by her cabin-door, to
the strong-looking workmen so diligently earthing
their fields of early potatoes, showed the content-
ment of industry, which I have vainly sought in
other parts of Ireland.
8 " UNCIVILIZED IRISH."
We entered one cottage, and its pretty exterior
covered with woodbines, roses, and ivy, corre-
sponded with the neatness within ; the only in-
mate received us with a ready smile, and dusting
the straw-bottomed chairs asked us to be seated ;
she looked a picture of the cheerful happiness she
acknowledged she felt ; her husband had plenty of
work, was a " dacent, quiet boy," her children
were at school, and they had a good lease of their
" little place.1'* She brought a cup of milk for an
English lady of our party, and stoutly refused any
remuneration — telling us with a tact which I gave
her great credit for, that she had a sister in Lon-
don married to an Englishman, and that "his
people were very kind to Mary."
I have often heard the "uncivilized Irish"
spoken unkindly of, and very unfavourable con-
trasts drawn between their mode of life, and that
of their wealthier neighbours. Poor Paddy gladly
takes the simplest food, and if he have enough
of it is a happy man ; and his neighbour John
prospers on his three good meals ; and the French
peasant contents himself with his poiage and vege-
table diet. In the matter of food surely we shall
not decide their relative degree of civilization.
I have attentively studied the Irish character.
I know all its national virtues, and, too, its national
faults; and totally uneducated as the poorest
"UNCIVILIZED IRISH." 9
among Ireland's very poor classes may be, I main-
tain there is, in that peasant's nature, in the
wildest district of the country, a civilization which
prompts respect and politeness to a stranger, that
you may unsuccessfully seek for in the peasantry
of happier England.
I know, and knowing regret it deeply, that in
many parts the national character has been de-
moralized, and the thirst of gain has replaced an
open-hearted generosity. I will instance Kil-
larney, where in late years the vast influx of
strangers, the greater portion of them rich and
carelessly-generous Englishmen, has taught the
poor mountaineer how easy it is to earn a shilling,
and how much more agreeable to get it for a
song, a jig, " a plate of wild fruits," " a taste of
potheen,11 or even for attending your honour, than
to toil for the half of it during a long summer's
day.
The path to this cottage was through a pretty
garden, abundance of common flowers blooming in
the borders, and the little gate in un-Irish style,
in good repair. There was no poverty here, the
flowers plainly said so, and I have ever found that
the very poor do not cultivate flowers ; theirs is
a struggle through a life of hopeless apathy ; to
gain the bare necessaries of life is with them the
only object ; the country child will cull that pretty
B 5
10 BEGGARS.
field-flowers, and string together a daisy-chain,
the various tints of the " modest tipped flower "
tastefully blended together.
In some of our rambles we came upon a group
of beggars ; there was the mother, hunger plainly
showing in her pinched features, and in the pallid
face of the baby in her arms, and some sturdy
children of various ages followed her ; two of
them had lingered behind, and one had a bunch
of hedge-flowers, and the other held exultingly in
her hand a daisy-chain she had just finished :
from the first the mother snatched the flowers,
and scattered them about, telling her in the ex-
pressive idiom of her native language, u that there
were no flowers for such.1'' It was painfully true ;
and it would have required the gentle earnestness
of a Mrs. Fry to reason the poor woman into
better feelings. Those pretty lines of Mrs.
Howitt on flowers came to my mind.
" Wherefore, wherefore were they made
All tinged with golden light,
All fashion'd with supremest grace^
Upspringing day and night ?
" To comfort man, to whisper hope,
Whensoe'er his faith is dim,
For whoso careth much for flowers
Will much more care for Him ! "
Under the shade of a spreading tree, close to
POWERSCOURT WATERFALL. 11
Powerscourt waterfall, was a gay picnic party,
whose merry peals of laughter made, to my ears,
a pleasanter accompaniment to the falling waters,
than the rather discordant music of a piper and
two fiddlers who played away in a business-like
manner.
The fall has nothing grand about it; it is a
very pretty fall, and foaming down the steep
ledge of rock, its spray dashing on us as we stood
directly in front of it, brought a most refreshing
coolness after the pleasant fatigues of the morning.
Homewards bound towards Bray, we drove
through the Glen of the Downs, and then saw the
evening shades falling around from Bray head,
looking on the magnificent view from its summit,
combining sea and mountains, and cultivated val-
leys, and our good night to the Sugar-loaf showed
its cone all gilded by the sun's last rays, meriting
for it its native name of the " golden spear."
12 THE SCALP.
CHAPTER II.
the scalp. — lough bray. enter dublin. — dublin beggars.
— Stephen's green. — foundation of dublin. — contrast
between london and dublin. irish improvidence.
trinity college. bank of ireland. royal dublin
society's house. st. vincent's hospital. sisters of
charity. — viceroy of ireland.
A great deal of rain had fallen during the
early morning, and some dark heavy clouds still
threatened us with occasional showers, but the
tourist in Ireland will soon learn not to fear them,
and in defiance of more than one prognostic that
the day would be dreadfully wet, we left Bray.
The bright rain-drops glistened on the hedges, and
the meadow-flowers sent forth such sweet per-
fumes, and the clear atmosphere bringing distant
objects into view, made us gratefully acknowledge
the benefit of summer showers.
We passed through the Scalp, a narrow pass
between two steep rocks, apparently rent asunder
in some convulsion of nature, and coming, by un-
frequented mountain-roads, to Lough Bray, we
stopped often in our ascent to take in the full
DUBLIN BEGGARS. 13
beauty of the lovely panoramic view before us ;
below was the bay, river, and city of Dublin, with
its numerous environs, and, looming up in the back-
ground, the lofty mountains of Down.
A contrast to this landscape is wild, secluded
Lough Bray, now dark in the deep shade of the
mountain above it. Here is a large military police-
barrack, and we ask is it possible that such is
needed in this sequestered spot, and we are told
that the police are well paid, and have little else
to do than to fish, and that they are " civil, well-
spoken, humane men.'"
Descending the mountains, we pass through
several villages, and by innumerable villas, and,
late in the afternoon, we enter Dublin ; the streets
are crowded with well-dressed ladies and gentle-
men, and with vehicles in every variety, the " out-
side car " far preponderating.
Ah ! there by a pastrycook's, and again by a
baker's, are several beggars ; there is no mistaking
the wretched rags, the feet without shoe or
stocking ; but, look at them ; on their merry faces
there are no traces of a consciousness of past or
present misery ; they seem enjoying life in their
own way, and now, with a cringing tone, they beg
a trifle, and now they turn with a jest to their
companions. An elderly lady has just left the
baker's, and, from a basket, she takes a loaf, and
14 CONTRAST BETWEEN
gives it between two young children ; blessings on
her benevolence ! I hope it will not teach them how
sweet is the bread of idleness !
Our hotel windows look on Stephen's Green,
the largest square in Europe, and pleasing, I
think, in the want of uniformity of its houses.
A knock at the door, and in comes a dear
friend, resident in Dublin, full of hospitable and
kind plans, and bent on our taking away with us
pleasant recollections of his city. We place our-
selves under his guidance, and he proves to be
" The finest guide that ever you see,
For he knows every place of curiosity."
To begin then at the beginning, he tells us that
Dublin was founded by the Danes about the
Christian era, and whoever were its founders, they
showed, certainly, great taste in their choice of a
situation. How small it is in comparison with
London, but nothing so strongly shows a contrast
between the two cities as a drive in Hyde Park,
and a drive in the Phoenix Park ; in the latter
so " few and far between " are the equipages of
the rich, that you have full leisure to admire the
really sweet view ; and if you see a fair equestrian
cantering, you will notice with what grace she
sits her horse ; but all has a deserted absentee-
look coming from gay, rich, crowded London.
LONDON AND DUBLIN. 15
We met cars in abundance, and these belong
to the tradespeople of the city. Yes ! they like
leaving their business ; they fail lamentably in
persevering industry ; and so it is that in several
of the larger towns in Ireland, the principal
houses of business are conducted by Scotchmen.
The Irish are the creatures of impulse, thinking
of the present, forgetting the future ; of course I
heard many examples of the contrary, and I
know that away from their country, they seem
to need neither the plodding perseverance of the
English, nor the thrifty forethought of the Scotch.
And the tears of many a mother saddened by
bitter poverty, have been dried up by a hand-
some remittance from America, from the son
that had barely scraped together the " passage
money " of the cheap winter's season, and had
landed, poor fellow, on a strange shore with but
a few shillings in his pocket. How diligently he
must have laboured, for a few months brought
money enough to give comfort in his cabin-home,
and enabled another brother to join him.
I could multiply such instances — I need not ;
yet I will express my regret that in Ireland the
poorer classes are deficient in hearty industry;
theirs is a passive endurance of their lot, a care-
lessness of improving their condition ; their wants
are few, and they barely seek to supply them.
16 TRINITY COLLEGE.
Is their apathy indigenous to the soil, or the
effects of early education and example ? At any
rate the warm Irish heart conquers all difficulties
when moved from home.
To illustrate the Irish want of forethought, a
friend told me of a shopkeeper that had cleared
over his business 500/. ; he thereupon sent his
daughters to a boarding-school, particularly re-
questing that they should be taught French and
the piano, and he set up a car for his wife. As
may be supposed, the little capital diminished
rapidly, and he soon ended by becoming a bank-
rupt, and emigrating with his family to New
York ; he lived then as well as any man could ;
and yet how differently an Englishman would
have acted ! A trader in " the city," so called
par excellence, having made this little sum, unlike
thoughtless Paddy, would still try to add to it,
and probably after a life of close application to
business, would end his days in affluence, leaving
a large fortune to his family.
Our first visit in sight-seeing was to Trinity
College, founded by Queen Elizabeth in 1592,
on the site of a suppressed monastery, the benefits
of its education so long denied to the Catholic ;
but more liberal, more enlightened days have
come upon us, and let us heartily hope that in
our gentle Queen's Colleges, now rising in the
BANK OF IRELAND. 17
island, the mixed education will drive bigotry
from the Catholic's heart, and plant toleration
in that of the Protestant or Dissenter, and
that all striving in the faith taught them by a
mother, for the one great home, shall be united
in their onward journey by the bond of brotherly
charity.
Such thoughts came forcibly upon me, as we
paused in the chapel of the College, and from
thence we were shown through the library and
museum.
Leaving Trinity College, we came out on the
Bank of Ireland, the old Parliament-house, the
scene of so many fiery debates, when Irish elo-
quence pleaded in vain. " We shall again have our
parliament in College Green, ,n is the well known
prophecy of Mr. CConnell, and who that has
listened to his earnest hopes on this subject, can
refuse to sympathise in them, or to give him full
credit for heartfelt sincerity ?
The Bank is a magnificent building, with a
noble colonnade of Ionic pillars round the centre,
above, the figures of Hibernia, with Commerce
and Fidelity; the last-named surely misplaced
on the site of so much faithlessness, as the history
of the days previous to the Union records against
some of the members of the then houses of par-
liament. On the eastern side is a portico with
18 ST. VINCENT'S HOSPITAL.
Corinthian columns, and over it the figures of
Justice, Fortitude, and Liberty.
From the forsaken Parliament-house, we wended
our way to the forsaken mansion of Ireland's only
duke, sold by the late Duke of Leinster in 1815
for 20,000/., and now the Royal Dublin Society
house, said to be the oldest society of the kind
in Europe, the library and museum well worthy
of the visitor's attention.
Our next visit proved a most interesting one ;
it was to St. Vincent's Hospital, Stephen's Green,
once the Earl of Meath's residence, and changed
to its present benevolent destination in 1835. I
cannot speak too praisingly of the admirably ar-
ranged system of this hospital ; it is under the care
of sisters of charity, and one of them showed us
through the wards ; that appropriated to the
children, is carried on exactly on the plan of the
Hospital des Enfans Malades in Paris. A few
years since some of the sisterhood went over to
that city, and studied the system and treatment
in the hospitals there. In the consumption ward I
loitered after the party, to speak to a poor woman
whose brilliant eye and hectic cheek told her dis-
ease. Every thing about her was beautifully clean
and neat, and her own words spoke eloquently
to my heart. " I have been here for two months,
and many a person in the world with thousands a
VICEROY OF IRELAND. 19
year, hasn't the care and kindness that I have had."
The gentle unceasing attentions of the sisters, guided
by holier feelings than even the blessed dictates of
humanity, make this hospital an enviable abode for
the infirm poor. How noisy, how very terrestrial,
seemed the gay world, as the convent-gate closed
upon us, making the contrast between the peaceful
stillness we had just left; it was from "grave to gay.1'
Dublin is unusually empty, I am told, for all
the citizens that can leave the city, are gone in
search of health and amusement to the sea-side ;
but, it is the " fashion," (and how entirely the magic
word regulates a certain would-be fashionable class
in Dublin,) to meet some days during the week
to listen to a military band which plays in some
of the squares; and I thought those the very
slaves of fashion who could leave the fresh country
air, for a fashionable lounge under a summer's
sun, in a heated city. It felt to us anything but
pleasure, though it was pleasant to see so much
youth and beauty met together.
The present viceroy of Ireland is very unpopular,
and many witty stories are told at his expense.
He is said to be peculiarly unsuited to his position
as head of Irish affairs, and he passes unnoticed
through the people, without one voice to greet
him, unlike the enthusiastic reception given to
some of his popular predecessors.
MONSTER MEETING.
CHAPTER III.
STATE TRIALS. HISTORY OF THE FAMOUS PROCLAMATION AND
PROSECUTIONS. MONSTER MEETING. CLONTARF MEETING.
— IMPRISONMENT OF MR. o'cONNELL. RICHMOND PENITEN-
TIARY.— VISIT TO MR. O'CONNELL IN PRISON. " HONEST TOM
STEELE." GAIETY OF DINNER PARTIES AT THE PRISON.
" SEDITIOUS POETRY." — MR. o'cONNELl's DECLARATIONS ON
THE STATE TRIALS. — VISIT TO CONCILIATION HALL.
The state trials had terminated some weeks,
and Mr. O'Connell and his fellow "martyrs1' were
inmates of Richmond penitentiary.
To attempt even a sketch of the history of the
repeal agitation would be here out of place, but a
few explanatory words of the famous proclamation,
and the prosecutions which followed, may be
acceptable.
On the 1st of October, 1843, the monster meet-
ing at Mullaghmast was held, and on the day
before it an advertisement was published in the
Dublin papers, announcing another monster meet-
ing at Clontarf, on the 8th of October, and as it
was drawn up with evident military knowledge,
CLONTARF MEETING. 21
and a correct application of the terms of military-
discipline, it caused much excitement.
It was at first supposed to have been written by-
some authorized member of the Repeal Associa-
tion, but this was denied in a vote from that body;
it was condemned by Mr. O'Connell, ridiculed by
the Irish press, and credulously believed in En-
gland to be only the precursor of a general rising
throughout Ireland. But the author of it gene-
rously came forward, and avowed his readiness to
take upon him the entire responsibility of the pro-
duction.
Days wore on, and reports of all kinds were in
circulation ; and it was the general opinion that
the Clontarf meeting would not be permitted to go
on, at least without a struggle involving much
bloodshed.
Troops and ammunition poured in, and the
rumour ran that a privy council on the 6th had
agreed to a proclamation, putting clown the meet-
ing ; but until half-past three o'clock on Saturday
afternoon (the 7th) it did not appear, — and within
one half hour afterwards, the counter-proclamation
signed by Daniel O'Connell as chairman of the
committee, was in extensive circulation preventing
that meeting.
It would be necessary to know the thousands
and tens of thousands, who were all moving
22 IMPRISONMENT OF
towards Clontarf on the morning of the 8th of
October, to judge accurately of the immense diffi-
culty of avoiding any collision between the troops
and the people. Steamers had come bringing ardent
repealers from Liverpool, from Belfast, from Wex-
ford; but the myriads dispersed tranquilly — the
one voice governed them, as they never can be
governed again, and Mr, O'Connell preserved the
peace.
The " informations" were perfected on the 8th
of November ; the bills were found, and the trials
came on, and lasted twenty-five days, the verdict
being found on February 12, 1844, and the 30th
of May began the imprisonment of Mr. O'Connell
and the six other " conspirators,"" John O'Connell,
Thomas Steele, T. M. Ray, R. Barrett, J. Gray,
and C. Gavan Duffy.
The prison is a very large building in a health-
ful situation, on the front this inscription, "cease
to do evil, learn to do well," and over the gate-
way the arms of the city, with the motto, " Obe-
dientia civium urbis Felicitas," So numerous were
the visitors thronging to see the state-prisoners,
that they had little leisure to muse on their cap-
tivity.
On our first visit we found Mr. O'Connell walk-
ing in the garden, surrounded by several members
of his family, and by several friends; and con-
MR. O'CONNELL. 23
spicuous among the latter in his odd-looking
military dress, his faithful friend "honest Tom
Steele," and none can know Mr. Steele intimately,
without fully appreciating the true-heartedness of
his devotion to his "illustrious leader," as he
styles Mr. O'Connell. It was a scene to he long-
remembered ; the old man so surrounded, the
sunny garden, and children's laughter, as they
merrily played among the flowers, pealing cheerily
above the animated conversation of many eager
voices. How unlike a prison ! and yet Mr.
O'Connell felt it to be one, and despite the
exertions of his family and friends, his spirits
drooped at times to the lowest state of despon-
dency.
A dinner at the prison was a very gay affair,
and the diet anything but prison-like, for every
day some rarities of the season appeared at table ;
offerings from absent friends, and it seemed very
difficult to fancy the large pleasant party of ladies
and gentlemen around us, the laugh and jest
going on, to be a prison re-union.
Speaking of the state trials, the Attorney-
General's opening speech was commented on, and
his strictures on what he called " seditious poetry"
freely discussed, and as the most inflammable
specimen, he quoted in court those verses, — " The
memory of the dead," which had appeared in the
24 "SEDITIOUS POETRY."
11 Nation" the previous year, and which I think
so pretty, that I give them a place here.
THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD.
" Who fears to speak of ninety-eight ?
Who blushes at the name ?
When cowards mock the patriot's fate,
Who hangs his head for shame ?
He 's all a knave, or half a slave,
Who slights his country thus ;
But a true man, like you, man,
Will fill your glass with us.
" We '11 drink the memory of the brave,
The faithful and the few :
Some lie far off beyond the wave,
Some sleep in Ireland, too.
All, all are gone, — but still lives on
The fame of those who died ;
All true men, like you, men,
Remember them with pride.
" Some on the shores of distant lands
Their weary hearts have laid,
And by the stranger's heedless hands
Their lonely graves were made.
But though their clay be far away
Beyond the Atlantic foam,
In true men, like you, men,
Their spirit 's still at home.
" The dust of some is Irish earth ;
Among their own they rest,
And the same land that gave them birth
Has caught them to her breast :
" SEDITIOUS POETRY.'" 25
And we will pray that from their clay
Full many a race may start
Of true men, like you, men,
To act as brave a part.
" They rose in dark and evil days
To right their native land ;
They kindled here a living blaze
That nothing shall withstand.
Alas ! that might can vanquish right —
They fell, and passed away ;
But true men, like you, men,
Are plenty here to-day.
" Then here *s their memory — may it be
For us a guiding light,
To cheer our strife for liberty,
And teach us to unite.
Through good and ill, be Ireland's still,
Though sad as theirs your fate ;
And true men, be you, men,
Like those of ninety-eight."
Among the guests were five young lads whose
story interested me greatly ; they were from Mr.
O'ConnelFs native county, Kerry, and two of them,
remarkably fine youths, were the sons of an
eminent physician in Tralee, a staunch repealer
and a Protestant. They loved O'Connell ; they
lamented his imprisonment, and with the frank
fresh feeling of youth, they longed to show they
sympathized in the wrong that had been done
him ; they would visit him, but how? the journey
c
26 MR. o'connell's declaration
was a long and an expensive one. Happy, cou-
rageous youth ! not to be easily daunted. They
possessed a boat, and in it they actually accom-
plished a visit to Dublin; it was a small four-
oared gig, and manned by the five boys, left
Blennerville, a seaport, a short distance from
Tralee, came down Tralee bay, and across a very
rough sea round Kerry-head to the Shannon ; up
the Shannon by Limerick, through Lough Derg,
and to the junction of the Grand Canal, and by this
canal to Dublin. And their honest, boyish love
met a most kind, affectionate return from their
imprisoned countryman. They had rowed nearly
200 miles to see him.
At a meeting of the Corn Exchange the month
before the imprisonment, Mr. O'Connell, in speak-
ing of the state trials, made the following decla-
ration, for which I am indebted to a friend who
was present on the occasion.
" They may," said he, " fine us. Well, we
will pay the fine. They may imprison us. Well,-
we will go to prison. We shall not be the less
patriots, or the more disposed to compromise, be-
• cause we are within the walls of a prison. Nay,
so help me, Heaven ! if there were possibly any
measure of acquiescence to which I would, when
abroad, agree ; if there were any terms to be
made with the enemies of freedom and of Ireland
ON THE STATE TRIALS. 27
which I might not think obnoxious, if I were at
large, I would reject them with indignation and
contempt from the moment a prison's walls en-
closed me. By imprisoning me, they say they
may shorten my life. That does not affect me
much. In the first place, I don't believe it. I
may have come to that time of life when the
affections are less soothing, and there is less of
reciprocity to meet them ; my heart may be aged
and widowed, and its tenderest ties may be de-
stroyed ; but I am still like the scathed oak, not
less firm against the fury of the storm than I
would have been in the days of my green and
buoyant youth. As to my health, I proclaim
to the Irish people that I believe it is capable of
sustaining any length of imprisonment they can
inflict upon me."
In this idea his friends said he was mistaken,
and, unfortunately, they were right, for the im-
prisonment seriously injured him, and the germ of
his weakening health first took root in Richmond
Penitentiary.
Conciliation Hall was now an attractive object
to all strangers in Dublin, and we attended a
weekly meeting there. The building was erected
by the subscriptions of the repealers, and opened
last year, and, certainly, for all purposes of hearing
and seeing, it is well designed.
c 2
28 VISIT TO CONCILIATION HALL.
There was this day a very dense crowd, and
most unmistakable earnestness shown to hear the
reports from the prison read to the meeting by
Daniel CTConnell, Jun. The business of the day
began with these reports, and then several letters
were read from different parts of the world, all
expressive of sympathy and good wishes with the
Association. Then came the speeches, some
excellent practical speeches, some flowery, rather
unmeaning ones, and some even very indifferent,
but all listened to with wondrous patience and
good humour, and enlivened by occasional cheers.
The speech that struck me most, the speech of the
day in fact, gave promise of great talent, the
speaker being quite a young man ; he spoke
tenderly of his country, feelingly of her wrongs,
and proudly of her rights, and his eye kindled, and
his cheek glowed, as he told how many years of
his long life his imprisoned leader had devoted to
the cause of Ireland, how all loved, honoured,
and trusted him, and how all would unite now in
rallying round their aged chief.* The finale of the
meeting was the announcement of the weekly rent,
— this week over 2,000/.
* And this same speaker was one of those " Young Ire-
landers " who in 1845 forgot all Mr. O'Connell's efforts, and
who turned upon him, slandered his actions, vilified his name.
So much for political friendship ! .
VISIT TO CONCILIATION HALL. 29
" What is done with all the money ?" I asked,
of an intelligent member of the Repeal Association,
one actively engaged in its working management ;
he told me there was a very large staff employed,
now numbering about forty-eight persons, with
salaries varying from ten to thirty shillings per
week, that all movements tending to improve the
cause of the people, in any part of the kingdom,
were under the care of the Association, and that
the necessary money was freely disbursed from it,
to obtain justice for every case of hardship reported
as endured for political opinions. Then there
were newspapers supplied to various reading-rooms.
Every penny received and given out was noted
down carefully, and every member admitted, every
letter received, were likewise entered on the books
of the Association. I was assured that the whole
mechanical working of the Association is directed
by a very able and zealous secretary.
Of any amount of ultimate good this Repeal
agitation may bring about, it is difficult to surmise ;
of course it has its enemies as it has its friends,
both parties in true national style, equally decided
in its own opinions ; but among Mr. O'Connell's
supporters there now seems to exist harmony, a
steady, straightforward, attention to business, and
an eager desire, in his forced absence, to carry out
fully his plans at Conciliation Hall.
SO CURRAGH OF KILDARE.
CHAPTER IV.
JOURNEY FROM DUBLIN TO LIMERICK. CURRAGH OF KILDARE.
SCENE AT A MUNSTER HAMLET. LIMERICK BELLES AND
BELLS. LEGEND OF THE BELLS. SIEGE OF LIMERICK.
VOYAGE TO TARBERT. — DEEP GREEN OF THE FIELDS. DE-
SCRIPTION OF " KINGDOM OF KERRY." LISLAGHLIN ABBEY.
" FUNERALS PERFORMED." — A COUNTRY FUNERAL.
KEENERS.
We left Dublin, by the mail-coach, for
Limerick, at a very matinal hour, and arrived at
the last named city for a late dinner; an extremely
tedious journey, the first part of it through such a
well cultivated country that the stranger looking
out for contrasts will not find one between it and
England, but, advancing farther, Ireland will
be recognized by the mud- cabins, the barefooted
women and children, and the famed green of the
" Emerald Isle,11 showing here and there pleasantly
on the pasture lands.
Coming to the town of Kildare, we crossed the
Curragh, famous as a race-course, and making a
very fine one in its extent of 3000 acres : in many
SCENE AT A MUNSTER HAMLET. 31
places it presents remains of the Druidical raths,
and is made mention of in the old national ballad
of the Insurgents of 1798.
" Where shall we pitch our tents .?"
Says the Shan Van Vocht ;
" Where shall we pitch our tents ? "
Says the Shan Van Vocht ;
" On the Curragh of Kildare,
And the boys they will be there
With their pikes in good repair,"
Says the Shan Van Vocht.
The country was in its summer bloom, potato-
fields now purple, now white with blossoms, hay-
makers at their pleasant labour, now pausing to
gaze idly at the coach; ripening fields of corn,
with " the poppy so royally robed in red,1'' peeping
out here and there, the blessed promise of abund-
ance all about us.
We stop to change horses at a country hamlet,
and out of the cabins come a swarm of women
and children, and our guard has a word and a
jest with them, and they talk merrily together in
their native tongue, for we are in Munster. This
is a very un-English scene.
Among the group there was a young woman,
she looks scarcely twenty-five, and from the
infant in her arms, to the child holding a very
little boy's hand, she has four children of different
32 LIMERICK BELLES AND BELLS.
ages. On being questioned as to her own age,
she smilingly says, <l Sure 'tis meself does not
know at all at all ; " an admirable state of ignor-
ance which cannot be too closely copied by her
sex. The mother has a pretty face beaming with
intelligence, the children have plump, rosy cheeks,
curly hair, and the baby any duchess might be
proud of; but they are all disfigured by dirty,
unwashed faces, uncombed hair, and their clothes
in rags, and the finely formed little feet are covered
with mud.
Limerick is considered the third city in Ire-
land, and a walk down its best street, George's
Street, and into the Square, the fashionable pro-
menade, will show you it deserves its reputation
for "Limerick lassies ;" for so many " belles" I
never saw in so short a space. Other bells inter-
ested me very much too. I visited the cathedral,
and from its tower admired the beautiful view
spread below, the silvery river gleaming in the
evening sun ; as I descended, the bells commenced
tolling- for evening- service, and I noticed to our
guide the extreme sweetness of their tone, and
he told me a pretty tale connected with them.
They were cast by an Italian whose pride in
them amounted to affection, and whose greatest
pleasure was listening to them. The changes of
war which deprived him of these bells brought
VOYAGE TO TARBERT. 33
them to Limerick cathedral. Sad and weary the
poor founder forsook his home and country, and
wandered forth on a pilgrimage in search of his
dearly loved bells. Years rolled on, and still were
his wanderings profitless. A very beautiful calm
summer's evening he sailed up the Shannon, and
suddenly, on his startled ear, came the well-re-
membered tones of his own bells ; the sudden joy
was too great for the old man's health, and he
died as he touched the shore, listening to their
evening peal.
From the cathedral we walked about the old
town, and saw the marks in the old walls of the
bombardment during the siege of Limerick. And
still, after nearly two centuries have gone by, is
the remembrance of that violated treaty fresh in
Irish memories.
From Limerick, the traveller is delightfully con-
veyed by steamers to Tarbert ; these ply up and
down the river between Limerick and Kilrush,
and as we hurried on board about eight o'clock, the
deck of the steamer was already crowded with
passengers, many on their way to Kilrush, and
thence to Kilkee on the broad Atlantic, which is
the usual resort of the citizens of Limerick during
the bathing season.
The sun was shining, and all nature looking
smiling, and as we came down the noble river,
c 5
34 " KINGDOM OF KERRY."
I could not help contrasting its deserted look with
the busy crowded Thames, and wishing commerce
more extended ; and the one is as much more
favoured in natural beauty, as the other is in
the cheering beauty of commerce.
A most agreeable Frenchman joined our party ;
he had come over to Ireland expressly to see
Mr. CTConnell. His remarking on the deep
green of the fields reminded me to tell him of
a countrywoman of his, who, when I had just
expressed to her my admiration at the verdure
and fertility of the beautiful valleys around us
in Normandy, asked me if I had not been sur-
prised to see such green fields, as she heard there
were no green fields in England on account of
the smoke of the coals ! She should have seen
some of the country scenes of fertile England,
which, by the way, la belle Normandie, one of
its parent countries, greatly resembles.
Our passage to Tarbert seemed a very short
one, and we were landed on a pier below the
town, constructed by the Steam Navigation Com-
pany, and so we entered the "kingdom of Kerry,"
as it is affectionately called by its inhabitants;
surpassed by many of the counties in fertility, but
by none in sublime and picturesque scenery.
The ordnance survey computes its acres to be
1,148,720, of which only 581,189 are cultivated
LISLAGHTIN ABBEY. 35
land, 552,862 bog and mountain, and 14,669 acres
under water; in many parts of it, improvements
are rapidly advancing. Many new roads, dis-
closing to the tourist beauties hitherto unknown,
are in progress. I do hope that in some years
all its natural advantages will be turned to
account.
I never knew a sojourner in this beautiful " land
of the west," that did not bring from Kerry
pleasant memories.
To our party, having many old friends there,
it was a spot of peculiar interest, and we studied
its history, and visited every remarkable place
in the county, with an earnest wish to let nothing
escape our observation.
At Tarbert we hired cars for Listowel, a small
country town, where we found a very excellent
hotel. The distance was about twelve miles, and
on our way we visited the very fine ruins of Lis-
laghtin Abbey, near the village of Ballylongford,
founded in 1478 by John O'Connor for Franciscan
friars, and dedicated to St. Laghtin, an Irish
saint, who lived in the seventh century; the
choir, with its fine gothic window, and the tower
are in good preservation.
A country funeral came up as we were loitering
amid the ruins. To a little pencil sketch of the
abbey, I appended the following pen-and-ink
36
sketch, called forth by our French fellow-traveller's
remarks in the morning : — " Funerals performed/'
On the forenoon of a bright May-day, I was
walking in Oxford Street with a Parisian friend,
lately arrived in England, and full of intelligence
and observation ; he stopped suddenly opposite a
house on which was displayed in large gilt letters
" Funerals performed,1' and repeated the sign
interrogatively to me.
" Funerals performed ? performed ? perform-
ance ? is not that what you say of the stage ? I
think I have often heard a 4 clever performance '
spoken of ? "
" And so you have," replied I, " and do not
you know that c all the world's a stage,' and con-
tinuing the quotation we found ourselves in Caven-
dish Square, where a mutual friend had invited us
to a French breakfast.
Seated round the table, the conversation turned
on the Parisian's remark.
" You would acknowledge that it was a very
good one," said our host, "if you had seen the
exemplification of ' Funerals performed,' that we
had within a few doors of us last winter :
" Our wealthy neighbour, Mr. Marris, died
after a lingering illness. His story is a common one
in London annals : — he came in early youth to the
great city to seek his fortune, began as an errand-
37
boy to a great house, to the head of which his
untiring industry raised him ; he loved, it was
said, and was beloved by a merchant's daughter,
but her father failed, and Mr. Harris's affection
did not stand the test of poverty : she died, poor
thing ! after weary years of toil as a teacher, and
he lived and prospered in worldly possessions, and
was an aged man when death claimed him,
44 We never heard that he had any relations,
nor will the lawyers be able to hold out any
hopes to the nearest of kin of Jacob Marris, of
hearing something to their advantage, for he willed
all his property to national institutions, reserving
a large sum for the expenses of his funeral, and
for the erection of a grand monument over his
remains in Kensal Green.
" His funeral was certainly * performed ' on the
grandest scale, and must have been half a fortune
to the undertaker; — it was a bitterly cold day,
a driving wind blew the sleet right in the faces
of the attendants, as they placed the coffin in the
hearse ; eight mourning coaches followed, in one
of them were two physicians, but not one friend,
for the occupiers of the other coaches were the
dressed-up and hired men of the undertaker, and
this we may well call a ' funeral performed/ "
The seasons had changed, and we were loitering
among the very fine ruins of Lislaghtin Abbey
38 A COUNTRY FUNERAL.
and borne towards us on the breeze came the
wailing of a country funeral, the saddest sounds
one can hear ; we drew aside within the ruins,
and slowly came towards us the mournful pro-
cession ; the coffin, of reddish painted wood, was
borne by six fine-looking men, and I saw tears
coursing clown the cheeks of the two foremost
as they laid their burden on a tombstone, near
a freshly dug grave.
An old woman rushed out of the crowd, and
flinging herself on her knees, laid her head on
the coffin, and burst into a passionate lamentation.
Five or six women knelt around the coffin, and
one with her hands laid on it, declaimed in her
native tongue, pronouncing an eloquent eulogium
on the merits of the dead, and from time to time
broke out into the "keen" which was taken up by
those around, and echoed back by the old abbey
walls.
There could not be less than fifteen hundred per-
sons present, there were the peasants from the
opposite shores of Clare, the men in their grey frieze
coats, and the women with their picturesque red
cloaks.
The deceased, I learned, was an old man who
had brought up a large family respectably ; and
whose life of usefulness merited the regrets that
accompanied him to the grave.
KEENERS. 39
" But these c keeuers ' are paid for their services,
are they not ? " enquired one of our party.
" Paid is it, an1 sure they 're not," replied a
stout middle-aged man. " Paid, indeed ! they
and we all wish to compliment the family, a rale
dacent family as there 'a in Minister, who always
has the good word of their neighbours, and the
bit and the sup for the poor. God be good to him
that 'a gone, and open the gates of heaven for him
this day, for his door was never shut agin the
poor ! " and the speaker turned away.
The coffin was taken from its resting-place, and
lowered into the grave, and the keeners kept the
old wife back, and heart-breaking sobs escaped
her ; the sons were supporting the poor woman,
and I did not see a dry eye in the group that
surrounded her.
The shadows of the old abbey fell on the newly
made grave as we left the spot ; the sounds of
sorrow were hushed, and all around seemed,
as I could imagine the old man, smiling in peace.
I was just in a train of delightful thought, when
our French acquaintance startled me back to the
realities of life by enquiring, '* Is not this, too, an
instance of a funeral performed ? "
40 HISTORY OF KERRY.
CHAPTER V.
HISTORY OF KERRY. ABUNDANCE OF GAME AND FISH. MINES.
MARBLE. DIAMONDS. PEARLS. DESCRIPTION OF BALLY-
BIINIAN AND SCENERY. LEGEND OF THE CIRCULAR HOLE
NEAR DOON. THE DEVIl's CASTLE. — VOLCANOES. NIVAGE.
SOIREE DANSANTE IN A CAVE. — HORSE-RACE. FATAL
FACTION FIGHT. — VIEW FROM KNOCKANURE.
The history of Kerry tells us that its ancient
name was Cair-Keegh, or the kingdom of Cair, who
was the eldest son of Feargus, King of Ulster.
Ptolemy, who flourished in the second century,
mentions this county, and says the Milesians
effected a landing in the river Kenmare, a.m.
2736 ; he places the Luceni, the same colony as
the Lucensii of Spain, in the inland parts of
Kerry.
When the English adventurers arrived, they
found the county possessed by powerful septs ; in
Henry II.'s time several English families settled
here, and in Queen Elizabeth's reign very large
tracts of land, the confiscated estates, were granted
to English settlers, whose descendants still enjoy
them.
ABUNDANCE OF GAME AND FISH. 41
Between the old inhabitants and the new-comers
many battles took place ; and those of the former
that could not be subdued retired into the fast-
nesses of the mountains, and beheld their native
inheritance parcelled out to strangers, yet not
without many a fierce struggle on their parts to
regain their birthrights.
Mr. O'Conneirs family still retains a small
estate among the mountains of Glencare, which
escaped forfeiture by its secluded situation.
Camden tells that in his time the Spaniards
yearly visited the harbours and sea-coasts of
Kerry for cod-fishing; and there are sufficient
proofs of Spanish settlement in the south-western
parts of the county, in the remains of Spanish
names, the manner of building, and the style of
dress, with the black hair and eyes of many of the
peasants.
Few parts of Ireland are better supplied with
game ; and the rivers, and some of the lakes are
well stocked with trout and salmon ; the Killarney
mode of cooking the last named on little wooden
spits has been long famous.
Salmon are taken in great abundance in the
Cashen river, near Ballybunian, in the Killarney
lakes, and the river Laune, in Carra Lake and
river, in Currane or Waterville Lake in Iveragh,
and in the Kenmare and Black water rivers ; and
42 MARBLE.
all the rivers and mountain lakes abound in trout,
though in the latter the fish is generally of an in-
ferior quality.
In Kerry several mines have been discovered.
At Muckross and Ross near Killarney were fine
copper mines, and at Kilgaroon there is one now
extensively worked ; at Ardfert, and in Glaner-
ought purple copper and marcasites of copper were
found. Iron ore near Killarney, and at Black-
stones in Glencan, and lead ore in several parts of
the county, have been met with.
In the mines at Ross which have many years
ceased to be worked, more from deficiency of
capital in the proprietors than from deficiency
of ore, some very curious mining shafts were
discovered, regularly sunk, and several other im-
plements used in mines. Large oval stones
called by the peasantry, " Danish hammers,1'
are found in Ross Island, having in the centre
of each a mark as if where a handle had been
fastened.
Marble of different kinds is raised in this
county ; near Tralee are good white and black
marble quarries, the latter taking a particularly
fine polish, and is manufactured into chimney-
pieces, and grey and variegated marbles are found
in several places.
Near Castleisland is found the Lapis Hiber-
PEARLS. 43
nicus auctorum, or Irish slate, and of late years the
slate quarries of Valencia are quite famous.
44 Kerry diamonds" are found among the cliffs
of the sea-coast, particularly near Ballyheigne and
Dingle ; they are regular transparent crystals,
many sufficiently hard to cut glass. Fine amethysts
have been discovered near Kerry head ; of these
a complete set was presented by a Countess of
Kerry to Queen Caroline, consort to George II.
Coloured crystals have been found, particularly near
Lough Lein, tinged like emeralds, topazes, and
sapphires.
Mr. OTlaherty takes notice that pearls were
found in this lake. " Et in eo stagno margarita^
multas reperiuntur, quas ponunt reges in auribus
suis:" and in the Epistol. Hibern. Syl., we read
that in a.d. 1094, a present of Kerry pearls was
sent from Gilbert, Bishop of Limerick, to Anselm,
Archbishop of Canterbury.
Throughout the county vestiges of antiquity are
thickly scattered ; the numerous ruined churches,
monasteries, and castles show that Kerry was
once a place of note.
With the kind assistance of a friend, I had just
put so much of Kerry history together, when a
summons from our fellow-tourists to join in a
ramble ended our studies.
. We were staying for a few days at Ballybunian,
44 CIRCULAR HOLE NEAR DOON.
and all the morning the rain had come down in
literal torrents, quite obscuring the view from our
anxious gaze ; the clouds were now breaking,
and here and there a promising bit of blue sky
peeping beneath them, and we all gladly came
out of doors, and a very charming prospect
greeted us.
We stood by the ruins of the old castle of
Ballybunian, of which the wintry winds have
left but a very small remnant standing, under
which runs a curious cavern ; below us was the
beautiful smooth beach, edged by a line of foam
from the dark turbulent waters ; across were
the shores of Clare, and Loophead, and Kerry-
head forming the portals of the magnificent
Shannon, and looming up in the clear atmosphere,
the beautiful range of mountains stretching from
Tralee to the Blasket Islands ; back of us were
the pretty lodges, from which were issuing groups
of persons, and following some of them we walked
along the cliffs to Lick Castle, a delightful ram-
ble, the coast presenting a great variety of caves,
and islands, with fantastic pillars and arches
formed by the action of the waves.
Near Doon we came on a curious circular hole,
into which the sea enters by arched openings:
the ridge of rock dividing it from the sea is very
narrow, the height of the cliff here immense,
VOLCANOES. 45
and round this some years since an old gentleman
of the neighbourhood galloped on horseback.
The legend of the hole tells that in ancient
days a hunter in these parts had nine daughters,
and far from duly appreciating the blessings given
him, he fretted and fumed as each grew up,
and he thought how he could provide for them,
and being like some monster in a fairy tale,
he brought his daughters separately to this hole
and pushed them headlong into the surging waves
beneath.
I could not ascertain what was his fate, but,
for the sake of justice, hope somebody sent him
after his children.
Near Lick Castle, an ancient seat of the
Fitzgeralds, and a place of strength, is a curious
rock standing out from the shore, called the
Devil's Castle, and on its summit is an eagle's
nest. The cliffs all here bear marks of a fierce
fire ; in some places can be seen clay calcined
like a burnt brick, and in others iron ore smelted.
There was here in 1753 a kind of volcano, as
Smith in his history of Kerry describes it : " an
accidental kindling of combustible matter, on the
external surface of the cliff, which became ex-
tinguished when the pabulum, or fuel, that fed
the flame was exhausted. This ignition is not
to be attributed to the collision of two hard bodies
46 NIVAGE.
together, as flints, metals &c. but to this cause,
that most of the cliff is composed of a stone called
pyrites, and there are in it marks of sulphur and
iron ore. Chemists know that if iron filings and
sulphur be mixed together, when wet they will
burst into flames. In those cliffs, when the beds
of pyrites, iron and sulphur, were wet by the
dashing of the sea-water, they took fire. The
phenomenon did not appear until the cliff, under-
mined by the action of the waters, fell down.""
The caves at Ballybuuian are very fine, and,
with one exception, can only be entered by boat,
and owing to the general heavy swell of the
waves here, this is seldom attainable.
A peculiar kind of boat or skiff is used here
called a nivage, it is composed of a framework
of wood covered with tarred canvas, and is rowed
by small oars or paddles ; it reminds one of the
description of the ancient carracks which were
formed of wicker or wood work, and covered with
skins. These little boats are said to be very safe
in a rough sea, as they float lightly on the waves,
but as the least motion upsets them, their crews
require to keep very still.
Here the poor fishermen venture out in them
in all weathers, and when they return home, take
their boats on their backs to the cabin door.
A few days since, a party from one of the
SOIREE DANSANTE IN A CAVE. 47
lodges here embarked in a large nivage : they
had not gone far when they perceived that one
of the boatmen pulled in his oars and kept his
hand down at the side of the boat ; they enquired
the reason, and heard " 'twas only a trifle of a
hole, and he'd keep the water out aisy with his
finger ; " it is needless to say the party did not
wish to test his capabilities, for they insisted on
returning to shore ; the boat was then hauled up,
and a patch applied to the injured part.
At the spring-tides here, a very fine cave can
be entered from the land at low water, and one
night we witnessed a novel soiree dansante in it ;
the entrance is easy, and we came at once on
a lofty arched chamber branching off into several
smaller caves extending a long way, and opening
on the sea.
The outer cave was the selected ball-room, and
it was lighted up with torches made of tarred
bog-wood stuck into the smooth sand, which
threw forth a splendid light, making the shining
sides of the caves, which were encrusted with
myriads of tiny shell-fish, sparkle with" a beau-
tiful effect.
The music certainly was not the most select ;
there was a piper and fiddler and some amateurs
who tried alternately the cornet-a-piston and
clarionet in a manner that would have given
48 HORSE-RACE.
Jullien a brain -fever had he been a listener ; but
the music, indifferent as it was, and the merry
voices and laughter of the gay dancers, and the
murmuring of the billows, echoed by multiplied
reverberations, made to my ears a most pleasing
harmony.
The polka had just been introduced into
Kerry, and infinite were the pains taken by a
laughing girl to teach the air to the fiddler.
" Sure I'd learn it soon enough if I'd the notes,"
and quite satisfied with himself he played an
improvised polka which sounded extremely like
an old air the " Rakes of Mallow."
All joys must end, and no meeter remainder of
the flight of time than the flowing waters ; one
wave gave warning coming near the dancers, and
a less polite one quickly followed, and another
and another, and exeunt omnes on the strand with
a flounce deep of water showing on the ladies
dresses.
There were races next day, and the description
of the staggeen race in the " Collegians" wras before
me as one jockey was sent head-foremost into
the waves, and another sprawling among the
crowd. The prize was a saddle.
We mounted ponies after the sports had con-
cluded, and we had most delightful canters on
the hard, smooth beach, and across the sands of
FATAL FACTION FIGHT. 49
Ballyea where more respectable races are annually
held.
This strand in 1834 was the scene of a fatal
faction fight ; both factions backed by their re-
spective friends, came to a fierce encounter, and
the defeated party retreated to the water, took
to their boats, were pursued, their boats upset,
and many lives were lost. For years the races
were discontinued in consequence of this fatal
occurrence.
Faction fights are now almost unknown since
the blessed temperance movement has spread
through the country. These fights between
different families, each member of the faction
espousing the cause of the one aggrieved, generally
began at fairs, where the fearfully unrestrained use
of whiskey was the true source of these often fatal
quarrels. It is only those alone who have mixed
with the poorer classes of the Irish, who have
seen them at fairs, or "patrons" or weddings,
ruining both health and temper by excessive
drink, or above all, who have visited their miser-
able dwellings and witnessed the wretchedness of
a starving wife and children expecting the return
of a drunken father after spending his earnings,
and her scanty gains in whiskey ; those, those
can tell that, in truth, the temperance movement
has been a blessed one.
50 VIEW FROM KNOCKANURE.
All is now order and sobriety at their public
meetings, witness the perfect peace of all the
monster repeal meetings of last year ; and in their
poor homes the wife can reckon with a happy
confidence on being able to apply her husband's
wages to buy food and clothing for their children
and themselves.
And humbly and grateful should the friends of
Ireland praise the power that inspired the esta-
blishment of the temperance society, and that
gifted its zealous founder, Father Matthew, with
that saint-like charity that watches over its pro-
gress with untiring benevolence.
Riding homewards we diverged and ascended
the hill of Knockanure, which commands a very
extensive view. It being a clear day we were told
we saw six different counties from it ; and we
could distinctly see the white lodges of Kilkee,
and the breakers of the wild Atlantic beyond
them, and below us the windings of the majestic
Shannon with the Island of Scattery or Innis-
cattery and its ruins. Moore's lines and legend
of St. Senanus give it an interest at the present
day.
ROUND TOWERS. 51
CHAPTER VI.
RIDE TO TUALEE. NOTIONS REGARDING ROUND TOWERS. —
RUINS OF ANCIENT BUILDINGS. POLICY OF THE ENGISH IN-
VADERS.— LEGEND OF BALLYHEIGNE. ARDFERT CATHEDRAL
AND ABBEY. TRALEE. DESCRIPTION OF THE ARRANGEMENTS
IN THE POOR-HOUSE AT TRALEE.
We left Ballybunian for Tralee, and, except for
the view of the chain of mountains before us, and
for two pilgrimages on our way, the drive was a
most uninteresting one, through a flat country, a
vast amount of potatoes flourishing on all sides.
About three miles from Ballybunian, we crossed
the Cashen ferry in a large flat-bottomed boat,
worked across the river by ropes and pulleys, and
into this we drove on our cars.
The round tower of Rattoo called us from the
main road ; it is very perfect, and we were told
that near it, in ancient days, stood an abbey,
which was burned down by the natives in 1600
on the approach of Sir Charles Wil mot's troops.
The tradition of the place says that there were
seven churches at Rattoo, and a bishopric ; the
D 2
52 NOTIONS REGARDING
round tower, which in Ireland always was erected
near cathedrals, favours the belief.
To me, these mysterious round towers are ob-
jects of peculiar interest, as such vague conjec-
tures have been formed as to tlie time of their
construction and their use.
Moore, in his " History of Ireland," is very inter-
esting on the subject. He writes, " How far
these pillar temples or round towers, which form
so remarkable a point of Ireland's antiquities, and
whose history is lost in the night of time, may
have any connection with the pyrolatry, or fire-
worship, of the early Irish, we have no certain
means of determining. That they were looked
upon as very ancient in the time of Giraldus,
appears from the tale told by him of the fishermen
of Lough Neagh pointing out to strangers, as they
sailed over that lake, the tall narrow ecclesiastical
round towers under the water, supposed to have
been sunk there from the time of the inundation,
by which the lake was formed, said to have
occurred a.d. 62.
"The notion that they were erected by the
Danes is unsupported, even by any plausible
grounds. In the time of Giraldus the history of
the exploits of these invaders was yet recent, and
had there been any tradition, however vague, that
they were the builders of these towers, the Welsh
ROUND TOWERS. 53
slanderer would not have been slow to rob Ireland
of the honour. But, on the contrary, Giraldus
expressly informs us that they were built ' in a
manner peculiar to the country.'
" That they may have been appropriated to
religious uses, in the early ages of the church,
appears highly probable, from the policy adopted
by the first Christians in all countries, of enlisting
in the service of the new faith the religious habits
and associations of the old. It is possible, there-
fore, that they might, at some period, have been
used for stations for pilgrims, for, to this day, it
appears the prayers said at such stations were
called turrish prayers.
44 Another of the notions concerning them is that
they were places of confinement for penitents ; but
beside the absurdity of the supposition, that a
people, whose churches were all constructed of
wood and wicker, should have raised such elaborate
stone towers for the confinement of their penitents,
we have means of knowing the penitential disci-
pline of the early Christian Irish, and in no part
of it is such a penance as that of imprisonment in a
round tower enjoined.
" To the notion that our Irish structures were
intended for watch-towers or beacons, there are
the most conclusive objections; their situations
being frequently on low grounds, where they are
54 NOTIONS REGARDING
overlooked by natural elevations, and the apertures
at their summit not being sufficiently large to
admit any considerable body of light.
" In the ornaments of one or two of these
towers there are evident features of a more
modern style of architecture, which prove them to
have been added to the original structures in later
times.
" As the worship of fire is known, unquestion-
ably, to have formed a part of the ancient religion
of the country, the notion that these towers were
originally fire-temples, appears the most probable
of any that have yet been suggested.'"
Among many very striking corroborations of this
view of their origin, Moore tells us that there
were found, " near Bangui pore, in Hindostan, two
towers, which bear an exact resemblance to those
of Ireland. In all the peculiarities of their shape
— the door or entrance elevated some feet above
the ground, the four windows near the top, facing
the cardinal points, and the small rounded roof —
these Indian temples are, to judge by the descrip-
tion of them, exactly similar to the round towers,
and like them also, are thought to have belonged
to a form of worship now extinct, and even
forgotten.""
Moore adverts to another hypothesis respecting
the origin and purposes of these towers, and
ROUND TOWERS. 55
finishes his remarks on them in these words: —
" They must be referred to times beyond the
reach of historical record. That they were
destined, originally, to religious purposes, can
hardly admit of question, nor can those who have
satisfied themselves from the strong evidence
which is found in the writings of antiquity, that
there existed, between Ireland and some parts of
the East, an early and intimate intercourse, harbour
much doubt as to the real birthplace of the now
unknown worship, of which these towers remain
the solitary and enduring monuments." — Moore's
Ireland, vol. i., chap. 2.
Passing through a wretched village, called
Abbey Dorney, we saw some ruins of what was
once a great Cistercian monastery, founded in
1154, whose abbots were lords in Parliament ; but
little vestiges now remain to tell of its former
greatness.
So it is all through Ireland ; ruins on ruins meet
the traveller's eye, and he longs to stop and make
a better acquaintance with them ; on one spot it
will be but the walls of an old square castle, and
here the picturesque remains of some church or
abbey, its fine gothic architecture showing beauti-
fully in its decay ; and perhap she will ponder, as I
often did, on the tasteless policy of the English
rulers, proving their strength by such means as
56 RUINS OF ANCIENT BUILDINGS.
destroying the ancient records of the country, and
strewing their paths through the island with ruin
and desolation.
It has frequently struck me how differently
some of the English commanders in those days of
devastation must have felt towards the conquered
land.
Here is the site of an ancient castle, and you
can judge of its extent from its wide-scattered
ruins; yet, scarcely "stone on stone*1 is left stand-
ing. The "good Queen Bess1' and her succes-
sors had here an overseer, hating the " mere
Irish,** and wishing it were as easy to destroy
them, as it was to demolish that old family inherit-
ance, dear to its owners from ages of possession.
And here is an abbey, and so carefully was it
unroofed that the cornice scones and mouldings
are perfect. The old yew trees, coeval with its
foundation, flourish around it unharmed by the
unwilling desecration, for this was a good, kind,
man, loving the beautiful, and feeling for the
wrongs of the oppressed land, and doing his
soldier's duty with a sore heart. Probably, he
had listened to the tales of the neighbourhood,
and he knew that poverty and sorrow found relief
from the benevolent monks, now driven homeless
through a distracted country ; or, perhaps, he had
found some lovely Irish maiden to soften the
ARDFERT CATHEDRAL AND ABBEY. 57
conqueror's heart, and that loving her, he loved the
land of her birth.
At least it was a cruel policy thus to wreck the
national monuments; they lie ruined around us,
and nearly three centuries have passed since the
days of " might against right," and still is Ireland
essentially Irish, the persecuted faith still tena-
naciously clung to, and the " green isle11 loved
with passionate tenderness : —
" The love born of sorrow, like sorrow, is true."
As we drove towards Ardfert, the sun shining
on the castle of Ballyheigne showed the pile of
building distinctly to us ; it was the ancient resi-
dence of the De Cantillons, and at low water
some rocks are visible in the bay below it. These
were their ancient burial-place, and a wild legend
tells that when a member of the family died, the
body was brought for interment in a coffin and
laid on the beach, and was from thence conveyed
by supernatural power to the rocky cemetery.
Arclfert was formerly a place of note, returning
two members to Parliament, and its ruins alone
tell of better days, for the village is now a wretched
place. We wandered over the ruins of the cathe-
dral which must have been a very splendid build-
ing : the nave and choir measuring 26 yards long
by 10 wide, and the eastern window is 26 feet in
D 5
58 TRALEE.
height. On one of the walls is the effigy of St.
Brandon the patron saint of Kerry, carved in alto-
relievo in his pontificals. This cathedral was
demolished in 1641; part of it is now kept in
repair, and service is performed in it according
to the rites of the Established Church.
At the western end of the cathedral are the
ruins of two chapels, and near these the remains
of an ancient round tower, built of a dark kind of
marble, with its opening facing the west.
In the fine demesne of Mr. Crosbie which ad-
joins the village, are the ruins of Ardfert Abbey
in tolerable preservation, two sides of the cloister
being almost perfect. This abbey was founded in
1253 for Franciscan monks by the first baron of
Kerry.
Tralee, or as anciently named Traleigh (the
strand of the river Leigh), is four miles from
Ardfert, and is the "capital" of "the kingdom"
and has a business-like appearance, and most
unlike a capital in its narrow, dirty streets, the
only exception to them being Denny Street, a
really fine clean street, opening on a delightful
promenade called M the Green," from which is a
very sweet mountain-view.
Our first visit here was to the poor-house, to
which an acquaintance kindly accompanied us.
The house is situated outside the town, and in an
POOR-HOUSE AT TRALEE. 59
excellent airy situation. Since we left Dublin,
poor-laws, and poor-rates, and poor-houses had
become familiar words ; and we heard constant
regrets for the present system, and gloomy fore-
bodings as to its beneficial workings in the future.
Here we were now, outside a real inhabited poor-
house, and we shall make our own private obser-
vations. The door is opened by a porter, and the
master is called, and he comes and welcomes us
with a bow that would not have disgraced Beau
Brummel.
The entrance-building is rather in advance of
the main-building, and we were now in the wait-
ing-hall, where the applicants for relief are
received ; off this is the porter's room, and he has
the charge of inspecting the paupers, who are
each placed in a probationary ward until examined
by a medical man and pronounced free from
disease ; then they undergo thorough washing,
get the poor-house dress, and enter as inmates.
We passed on to the main building through a
court- yard divided into exercise grounds for boys
and girls ; in the centre of this house are the
master's and matron's rooms, having the store-
rooms and kitchen immediately under their in-
spection.
The kitchen, the day-rooms, the dining-hall, the
dormitories, were all clean as possible, and all the
60 DESCRIPTION OF THE
rooms well ventilated, but there was a dreariness
over the whole that depressed my spirits. Some
of the women were employed in washing, and
some of the men in breaking stones ; they seemed
to have no heart in their employment.
The hospital is removed by another yard, and
there are separate wards for lunatics or idiots,
and accommodation on the ground-floor for aged
and infirm paupers.
As we were leaving, there were applicants
for admission in the waiting-hall ; an elderly man
apparently in bad health, and his wife and half
a dozen children, and tears were streaming down
the poor woman's cheeks, for she was about to
part from her husband and her children, except
the poor unconscious infant which she was
suckling; her life had probably been one of
ceaseless poverty, but the lowly cabin had been
her home, and blessed by the duties of wife and
mother.
In this work-house at our visit, there were yet
few inmates, I think not many over three hundred,
and the elders among them all struck me as look-
ing deplorably miserable, brooding over their fate
in dreary idleness ; the life was new to them, not
as paupers, for I could read in the deep lines of
several furrowed cheeks that they had long known
poverty and sorrow. To many a rough nature in
POOR-HOUSE AT TRALEE. 61
that house, life had had its bitternesses, but its
sweets too, the now deserted hearths of their
humble homes.
Here wives have no comforting words from their
husbands, they are entirely separated ; and chil-
dren, except infants, are strangers to a parent's
love ; here they come to live, and they are fed and
clothed, and day by day goes by, bringing them
no trust in the future of their life on earth, and
unmarked by a struggle to improve their con-
dition.
" This is all very fine sentiment,11 exclaims my
friend M — , taking up my note book ; " but if we
have no poor houses, pray how are the overwhelm-
ing poor of Ireland to be supported ? you surely
would not have the beggar to starve by the road-
side— the poor family just ejected from their cabin
and thrown on the world by an improving land-
lord, without a roof to shelter them P11
" When did Irish charity let a beggar starve ? "
I ask ; " I would have a place of relief for the
destitute, but I have a peculiar theory of my own
about the carrying out of this Irish poor-law — this
so-called * Act for the relief of the poor.1 For the
aged, the infirm, and the orphan child, the poor
house is undeniably a blessed asylum ; but for the
strong man from the country, ejected as you say
from his little holding, accustomed all his life to
62 DESCRIPTION OF THE
labour, I would not throw him into a poor-house,
degrading him into a useless burden on society,
destroying his moral character by total idleness ;
or, if he must enter it, I would have him usefully
employed.
" I would endeavour to make every poor-house
as much as possible self-supporting, despite all
that political economists say against this theory ;
for I cannot believe that the industry of the labour-
ing classes outside the poor-house can be materially
injured by the industry of the paupers within it.
Suppose some waste lands adjoining the poor-house
brought into cultivation by paupers' labour, and
yielding a supply of potatoes and corn towards
their support, a neighbouring farmer complains
that this interferes with the sale of the produce of
his farm ; but let him remember how it will lighten
the burden of taxation. Within the house, knitting
and spinning, and weaving should go on, and the
paupers make and wear their own manufacture ;
many among them wore nothing else in better
days in their country homes, and many, alas !
seldom wore anything but rags ; so the clothing of
either of these classes could not be reasonably
considered as a grievance by the neighbouring
tradespeople, or interfering with their legitimate
trade.
" And the highest motive still remains, cheerful
POOR-HOUSE AT TRALEE. 63
industry will make all better and happier ; the
pauper would feel the blessings of useful employ-
ment. And I would not so cruelly separate those
who have toiled together, maybe through a long
life of struggling years : 4 whom God has joined
together, let no man put asunder.'"
The trial of the poor-law system is yet new,
(1844) ; we have the words of a high authority
on Irish matters, that it is ill suited to Ireland's
wants; he knows the country and its people
well.
The Irish unions have been formed on the same
principles as those in England, — a market-town
beinof fixed on as the centre of the union, with a
surrounding district of about ten miles, and the
governing power in these consists of a board of
guardians, some being the resident magistrates,
and, therefore, ex-afficio guardians, and others,
guardians elected by the rate-payers, and of course
in true national spirit, these very elections have
brought out excited feelings ; the power of voting
for the election of master or matron, or some of
the minor offices, being the extent of the success-
ful candidate's patronage.
In some of the reports of the poor-law com-
missioners I read strong recommendations that
work should be given to the able-bodied pauper,
that no idleness should be allowed ; and that
64 POOR-HOUSE AT TRALEE.
children should be well and carefully taught and
trained to be useful ; and as to diet, that it is
desirable that it should be inferior to the diet of
the labouring classes ; it must be very bad indeed
if inferior to poor Paddy's usual food, God help
him !
I heard that already in many unions great com-
plaints had been raised as to the insufficiency of
the food given to the grown-up pauper, and there
is something dreadful in thinking of the hungry
man having enough to stay, not satisfy, his ap-
petite. It is not relief!
TEMPERANCE SOCIETY CONCERT. 65
CHAPTER VII.
TEMPERANCE SOCIETY CONCERT IN TRALEE. CHALYBEATE SPA
NEAR TRALEE. VIEW FROM CAHIRCONRIGH. DANISH-LIKE
ENTRENCHMENT. — DINGLE. DANISH FORTS. RATHS. — MOST
WESTERLY POINT OF EUROPE. BLASQUET ISLANDS. — DRENCHED
WITH RAIN. RELIGIOUS ZEAL. CURE FOR EFFECTS OF MOUN-
TAIN SHOWERS. OGHAM CHARACTERS. RETURN TO TRALEE.
During our stay in Tralee we one evening
attended a concert got up by the temperance
society, and conducted by their president, a gentle-
man of high musical talents, who has kindly
devoted much time to the formation of the society's
band, and certainly his efforts have been crowned
with success, for I seldom heard a better selection
of music played with equal taste. And it was a
most pleasant sight to see so many respectable,
well-dressed tradesmen apparently enjoying the
sweet sounds they gave forth.
On a recent occasion I was told this temperance
society walked in procession through the town,
and a beggar-woman looking on (a confirmed
drunkard by the way), remarked, on their num-
66 CHALYBEATE SPA NEAR TRALEE.
bers, exclaiming, " there go near seven hundred
registered drunkards." But this is a solitary
instance of want of respect for the body, a proof
of woman's wilfulness, we will suppose. Every-
where the teetotalers are respected, and hitherto
they have kept their pledge most religiously.
Near Tralee is a chalybeate spa, which has
been considered as possessing great powers, and
there are several pretty lodges built in its neigh-
bourhood on Tralee bay, with the fine mountains
opposite, and a residence in any of which is more
likely to conduce to good health, in my opinion,
than the most approved spa that ever bubbled up
from mother earth.
The chain of mountains stretching from Tralee
towards the sea are called the Slaibh Mish moun-
tains ; the first on the range is Cahirconrigh or
" the fastness of King Con," and we were tempted
to a ride up this, and more than repaid by a beau-
tiful view — on one side the country we had come
through, and on the other the glorious promise of
beauty in the glimpse of Killarney Lake and
mountains ; but, patience, the president pro tern.
of our travelling society, says we must turn aside
and visit Dingle ; it is hard to bow to his
authority, and bad taste to turn our backs on
lovely Killarney.
Near the top of this mountain is a Danish-
DINGLE. 67
like intrenchment, which an old tradition supposes
to have been the work of giants, and the immense
size of the stones composing it favours the idea,
M and there were giants in those days." Another
local belief is that the Milesians fought their first
battle among these mountains, with their prede-
cessors in Ireland.
The morning was dark and lowering as we left
Tralee on outside cars for Dingle, but the wild
mountain-scenery through which we passed, ap-
peared to peculiar advantage in the intervals
between the showers, and the rugged valley of
Glenagalt as gloomy as if the old country saying
were strictly true, that if all the insane in the
kingdom were let free, they would run thither.
Dingle is a very ancient town, and situated
amid mountains on a small bay which has just
the appearance of a lake. Queen Elizabeth incor-
porated it in 1586, and granted the inhabitants
300/. to build a wall ; it is the most westerly town
in Europe, and though so remote, we found
admirable accommodation there, most moderate
prices, and we brought away the recollection of
much kind hospitality, and of some pleasant and
interesting excursions.
We mustered a very large party one very fine
morning, and all mounted, some in a style that
would not disgrace Rotten-row, and some on
68 DANISH FORTS.
ponies that had never felt a saddle before, we
made a very imposing cavalcade as we passed
through the little town.
A gentleman who resided near Dingle was
unanimously elected our leader, and we gaily
followed his guidance. " This peninsula was the
last spot of ground possessed by the Danes in
Ireland," said he, as we crossed the narrow land
separating Ventry harbour from Dingle port.
On the western point is an ancient Danish fort
called Cahir Trant, and from it the remains of
a line of forts extend. Our antiquarians, however,
decided to visit the forts, which are certainly ob-
jects of much interest to any one interested in
Irish history.
Moore tells us in vol. i. chap. 9, that " of
those ancient raths, or hill-fortresses, which formed
the dwellings of the old Irish chiefs, and belonged
evidently to a period when cities were not yet
in existence, there are to be found numerous re-
mains throughout the country. This species of
earthen work is distinguished from the artificial
mounds or tumuli by its being formed upon
natural elevations, and always surrounded by a
rampart. Within the area thus enclosed, which
was called the rath, stood the habitations of the
chieftain and his family, which were in general
small buildings constructed of earth and hurdles,
BLASQUET ISLANDS. 69
or having in some instances walls of wood upon
a foundation of earth." — Page 194.
Again in vol. ii. chap. 18, he says: — "It
appears questionable, indeed, whether there exist
any vestiges of stone buildings at present in Ire-
land, that can on any satisfactory grounds be
ascribed to the Northmen, and it is probable
that those raths or earthen-works raised as mili-
tary defences^ in the construction of which they
took for models the artificial mounds used as for-
tresses by the natives, are the only remains of
any description that can with tolerable certainty
be ascribed to Danish workmanship." — Page 61.
The ruins of Donquin church were our next
halt, and here the Prince of Ascula was interred
after the shipwreck of the Spanish Armada off this
coast. We then came on to Dunmore Head, and
stood on the most westerly point of Europe ; here
is a house called " Tig Vaureen Gerane," or Mary
Gerane's house, as celebrated as John O'Groat's
in Scotland.
The Blasquet islands are twelve in number ;
some mere rocks, but the largest, Innismore, is
three miles in length, and several families live upon
it, and there are the ruins of an ancient church
and burial-ground. Innismackeilane, the second
in extent, has the remains of an old chapel, and
a curious stone-roofed hermitage, in which was
70 DRENCHED WITH RAIN.
founded a stone chalice and font. This cell is an
arched one of stone, neatly joined without mortar,
and having the same appearance as the old Roman
arches. It is supposed to have been built by the
first Christian missionaries. These islands are in a
peculiarly healthy situation, and people living on
them attain a marvellous old age. Our zeal for
exploring them was completely checked by a very
rough sea, so I am indebted to our kind guide for
these particulars. /
We scrambled more than rode through moun-
tain paths to Sybil Head, and leaving our cavalry
at the base of it, near the ruins of Ferriter's Castle,
we walked to the summit, and were charmed by
a magnificent sea-view, but the gathering clouds
warned us to descend, and we had scarcely re-
gained our steeds when the rain fell in actual tor-
rents, but despite it, on we cantered, and as we
came up to a gentleman in the same plight as our-
selves, our guide stopped, and instead of returning
to Dingle, we were introduced to this gentleman,
the parson of that remote district, and we turned
aside with him to his glebe-house. We were
all thoroughly drenched, but how merry we were
as we dried our dripping garments before the
huge turf-fire.
Colds and fevers and agues, of all kinds, were
predicted, but no one suffered, and we partook
RELIGIOUS ZEAL. 71
of the parson's humble fare at five o'clock, and
drank cold water, for he was a teetotaler, and
the one bottle of wine his cupboard held was
kept as a cordial for sickness, and none of us
would taste it. Our host was a sincere zealous
believer in his faith, but free from that pernicious
zeal endeavouring to make " converts," or " per-
verts," or " soupers," as they are significantly called
in the locality. No one can more earnestly admire
a true religious spirit than I do, nor can more
fully appreciate the blessings of faith ; but it is
hard not to condemn the ill- directed zeal of the
Protestants of Dingle, which has sown such discord
and bad feeling in that town. Faith is a purely
spiritual gift from the All-wise Creator, and he
or she that is thrown among unbelievers, and in
all earnest gentleness teaches by word and example
the blessing of that light to " those who sit in
darkness," does a holy deed ; but faith cannot be
hoped for through the medium of legs of mutton
on Fridays, and meat-soup on fast days. Throw-
ing ridicule on the ancient usages of a church,
and convincing men through their appetites is not
the way to make converts.
That evening we passed in dancing off the effects
of out wetting, and I would strongly recommend
the same prescription as infallible to any tourist
who has been wet through by mountain showers.
72 OGHAxM CHARACTERS.
Next day we again mounted our horses, and first
rode to Smerwick Harbour, about six miles from
Dingle, where we were shown the remains of a
fort built by the Spaniards, and called Forte del
Ore, where many years ago some corslets of pure
gold were dug up ; near this, at Ballinlanrig, are
vestiges of a pagan monument.
We next came to Gollerus, where there is a
fresh-water lake, frequented by swans, and we
dismounted for a close inspection of the very
curious old stone-cell, built entirely without mor-
tar, and the stones fitting so closely one to the
other ; near this are the ruins of an old castle ;
and a short distance from both, lives the old parish
priest, a perfect Irish scholar and antiquarian.
We called on him, and found him full of the
good old-fashioned hospitality and politeness, and
most agreeable in his knowledge of Irish anti-
quities.
Yesterday with the parson, to-day with the
priest ! and so it is ; we need a helping hand
from each in our respective faiths, in our onward
journey, and let mutual charity be the bond of
peace between us.
At Killmachedor, we found most interesting
ruins of a church, and close to it of St. Brandon's
house, and here, there being several stones in-
scribed with the Ogham characters, we were dis-
RETURN TO TRALEE. 73
persed, poring over them in various directions,
some with pencil in hand making sketches.
Father C — had just given us a learned dis-
quisition on this sacred character, in which he
believed the ancient Druids committed their
mysteries to writing, and as a pendant to his
opinion, I quote again my great authority, Moore.
On this occult manner of writing he says : " Besides
the alphabet they used for ordinary occasions,
the ancient Irish were in possession also, we are
told, of a secret mode of writing, such as is known
to have been used for sacred purposes among
the hierarchies of the east." He tells us that
" The name Ogham or Ogma, is found to be
a primitive Celtic term, signifying the secret
of letters ; " and he adds afterwards, "It is
possible that, in a few of these instances, the
lines taken for letters may have been no more
than the natural marks or furrows in the stone,"
vol. i. chap. 4. However, antiquaries of the
present day have read these inscriptions, and
entertain no doubt of their ancient use and origin ;
but the very scepticism of some on such matters,
only makes the faith of others in them all the
stronger.
We bade adieu to Dingle with regret, and re-
turned to Tralee, by a different road, except for
the last few miles, crossing Connor Hill and
E
74 RETURN TO TRALEE.
passing through really fine mountain-scenery,
the road winding along the side of the mountain,
Brandon, the second highest mountain in Kerry,
on our left hand, and heyond the opening showing
the blue sea. We halted at Castle Gregory, to
visit the ruins of the old church and castle, and
here again we found the Ogham characters, with
a very perfect stone-cross, in the overgrown
churchyard. And dreaming of ruins and an-
tiquities, let us rest the night, and be very
matinal to-morrow, to make acquaintance with
the far-famed beauties of Killarney.
FIltST VIEW OF K1LLARNEY. 75
CHAPTER VIII.
FJRST VIEW OF ROMANTIC KILLARNEY. " SWEET INNISFALLEN."
— INNISFALLEN ABBEY. o'sULLIVAN'S CASCADE. — GLENAA.
DINIS ISLAND. THE ARBUTUS OF KILLARNEY. TORC LAKE.
— MUCKROSS DEMESNE. — MUSICAL ECHOES ON THE LAKES.
A matchless scene is before us, as about a
half-mile from Killarney the road winds round a
hill-side, and opens to our eager gaze, the lake
and islands lying below, framed in on south and
south-west by magnificent mountains. The sun,
which threatening clouds had hidden during the
morning, has just come forth, and shines upon
the rich woods, and gleams upon the placid
waters :
" For though but rare thy sunny smile,
'Tis heaven's own glance when it appears."
And can anything but happiness dwell in such
a spot ? is my mental soliloquy, and this is my
thought. We enter the little town of Killarney,
by a row of, alas ! miserable cabins.
Beautiful, romantic Killarney ! what memories
E 2
76 FIRST VIEW OF KILLARNEY.
of joyous happy days your name brings before
me, recalling friends worthy to live in such a
land, unequalled, to me, even in this fair world
of ours.
Killarney is essentially a place of variety, and
this is one of its great charms ; the grand, the
beautiful, the ruggedly wild, and the merely
pretty, combine to form a scene of fairy-land ;
it is in truth a sweet, sweet spot,
u Where nature lov'd to trace
As if for gods a dwelling-place,
And every charm and grace hath mix'd,
Within the paradise she fix'd."
The tourists who come to Killarney for
one or two days, and, contented to say they
have been there, hurry over its many beauties,
going rapidly through the Guide-book routine,
must leave with a very confused recollection of
lakes and mountains and glens and rivers. For
all who like ourselves can tarry by the way, I
would extend a friendly hand in warning, and
tell them to enjoy leisurely the many beauties
of this lovely locality.
" What is the best season for visiting Kil-
larney ? " asks one of our party, of an old friend
who has come to welcome us, and he tells us that
many visiting Killarney prefer the autumnal
months, when the woods look so rich and beau-
" SWEET INNISFALLEN." 77
tiful, clothed in their variegated foliage ; the
autumn is yet too young, in this moist climate, to
judge of the effect of the changing hues.
For my part, give me the early summer months,
when the fresh green of spring, seen in the oak,
the hazel, the ash, contrasts finely with the ever-
green arbutus and holly ; and then, too, the
evenings are longer, and the weather generally
finer.
I take up my note-book, and I am fairly
puzzled by the quantity I have written in Kil-
larney. I must curtail with no sparing hand, yet
I wish that I could paint the beauteous picture
in more captivating colouring than cold words
give me.
A boat awaits us at the base of the lawn of
the Victoria Hotel, and we are off on the
placid waters, with John Gandsey, the bugler,
at the prow, and certainly pleasure at the
helm in the smiling face of M , who is our
cockswain.
The lower lake, on which we now are, presents
a large expanse of water, over eight miles long, and
three broad, the surface broken by several islands.
" Sweet Innisfallen," the first to attract our at-
tention in its tranquil loveliness, — we land on it,
and saunter round it, and pause by its sweet bays,
and gaze now on the huge mountain of Tomies
78 INNISFALLEN ABBEY.
opposite, rising from the very water, and now on
the more distant Tore, Mangerton, and Crohane,
and we turn to inspect the ruins of the old abbey,
and think that if the monks were not holy, they
ought to have been so amid such scenery, enough
to raise one's thoughts from u nature up to nature's
God."
The abbey was founded in the sixth century by
St. Finian for Franciscan monks. The annals of
Innisfallen contain a sketch of universal history
from the creation of the world to a.d. 430, and
Irish affairs are fully detailed by the annalists
until 1215. According to them this abbey, which
had all the riches of the country deposited there
as in a place of security, was plundered by Mil-
durn, son of Daniel O'Donaghue, and many
monks were killed in the cemetery by the
MacCarthies. God, they add, punished this act
of impiety by the untimely end of some of the
authors of it. In Queen Elizabeth's time the
abbey and lands were granted to Captain Robert
Coliam, with the neighbouring abbey of Irrelagh,
or Muckross; the ancient chapel has been for
years used as a banqueting-house for tourists,
and songs of mirth echo where the long-forgotten
hymns of prayer sounded.
Rowing slowly from Innisfallen to CTSullivan's
Cascade, we sang together Moore's lines, written
INNISFALLEN ABBEY. 79
during his visit to Killarney in 1822. They are
so beautiful I insert them : —
" Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well,
May calm and sunshine long be thine ;
How fair thou art let others tell,
While but to feel how fair is mine.
" Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well,
And long may light around thee smile,
As soft as on that evening fell
When first I saw thy fairy isle.
" Thou wert too lovely then for one
Who had to turn to paths of care,
Who had through vulgar crowds to run,
And leave thee bright and blooming there.
" No more along thy shores to come,
But on the world's dim ocean tost,
Dream of thee sometimes as a home
Of sunshine he had seen and lost.
" Far better in thy weeping hours
To part from thee as I do now,
When mist is o'er thy blooming bowers,
Like sorrow's veil of beauty's brow.
" For though unrivalPd still thy grace,
Thou dost not look as then too blest,
But in thy shadows seem'st a place
Where weary man might hope to rest :
" Might hope to rest, and find in thee
A gloom like Eden's, on the day
We left its shade, when every tree
Like thine hung weeping o'er its way.
80 INNISFALLEN.
" Weeping or smiling, lovely isle !
And still the lovelier for thy tears,
For though but rare thy sunny smile,
"lis heaven's own glance when it appears.
u Like feeling hearts, those joys are few,
But when indeed they come, divine ;
The steadiest light the sun e'er threw
Is lifeless to one gleam of thine."
Along the northern shore of this lake the land
has a well-cultivated appearance ; the old and
new church of Aghadoe, with Lady Headley's
pretty house of the same name, appear on the
hill-side, and in the far distance the range of
Tralee mountains ; the river Laune is the only
outlet from these lakes, and we rowed down it
under Dunloe Castle, and by the grounds of
Grena, and certainly the mountain-view was mag-
nificent ; Cahir, the purple mountain, the Gap
mountains, and the now cloud-capped rocks, tower-
ing upon our left as we descended the stream.
Coasting the shores of Tomies, we landed at
the cascade, and were greeted by a flock of moun-
tain nymphs offering wild fruits and goats'* milk.
The cascade has three distinct falls measuring
70 feet in height. From this on to Glenaa, the
shore is most beautiful ; the mountains rising from
the water thickly clothed ; here a bare rock, and
here a patch of verdure, and the mountain's top
seen in barren majesty.
GLENAA. 81
Between Burnt Island and Stag Island we en-
tered a small bay, a scene of enchantment :
the boatmen rested on their oars, and Gandsey
awakened the echoes with the old Irish melody,
" The young man's dream." Scrambling up the
hill-side we came to a pretty waterfall, and then
to the ruins of a hamlet called Cullina ; the cabins
apparently but recently unroofed, and the sweet
seclusion did not even preserve their humble
homesteads.
Glenaa is a charming retreat, and what a few
years since was rough with rock-sand, covered
with heath and brushwood, is now laid down
in grassy lawns and intersected with pretty wind-
ing walks. The kindness of Lady Kenmare pro-
vided a commodious banqueting-house for stran-
gers, and no day passes in the season that some
groups of tourists do not meet here to refresh
the inward man with those " creature comforts "
which, alas ! for romance, must be remembered
even in this land of romance. We loiter delight-
fully about the grounds of Glenaa. I was in
advance of my fellow-tourists, hastening on to
reach a rustic seat which, placed round a yew-
tree just under the mountain, commands a very
lovely view : a few paces before me was a party,
evidently ramblers like ourselves. The mountain
rose almost perpendicularly within some yards of
E 5
82 DINIS ISLAND.
us, clothed in rich woods to its very summit. Its
height must at least have been 1800 feet, and
as I passed them, one young lady exclaimed to
another, in unmistakable cockney accents : " Dear
me, Sarah Anne, what a pretty hill ! " I longed
to turn and ask her to ascend it with me, and
then to quote for her :
" Far in the mirror, bright and blue,
Each hill's huge outline you may view."
The channel back of Glenaa brought us opposite
the Old Weir Bridge. This is the spot said to
have been most admired by Sir Walter Scott, who
visited Killarney in 1825.
Dinis Island tempted us to another ramble ;
here the arbutus grow to an enormous size, but
like objects in animated nature age disimproves
them ; instead of a full spreading shrub, the trunk
of the tree is bare and has a ragged appearance.
The moist climate of Killarney is very favourable
to the growth of this tree, which in its different
degrees of vegetation is beautiful. It is the pride
of Killarney, and, like the orange-tree of more
favoured climes, it bears at the same time, leaves,
flowers and fruit.
Tore lake is a sweet sequestered lake; its moun-
tain, rising from the water, is its southern boun-
dary, and from this descends a small stream, the
t
xMUCKROSS DEMESNE. 83
Lein, from which the Killarney lakes take their
name.
Muckross demesne slopes down to the lake's
eastern edge, and the newly-erected mansion, of
the style of the Elizabethan era, is close by. This
house is built of yellow sand-stone brought from
Cheshire! " Impossible !" I exclaim, on hearing
it ; nevertheless it is strictly true. It was the
first time I ever heard of stones being found
wanting in Ireland. Mr. Pugin, who has de-
voted himself so completely to architecture, con-
demned this idea, and asserted that Nature
everywhere supplied stone suited to the climate
and country, and a geologist can see the incon-
gruity of building a house where its "formations"
do not exist. Lord Headley, with real good taste,
erected his mansion at Aghadoe of red sand-stone,
quarried on his own estate in Glanbegh. And
talking of geology, the fact was noticed to us
that the peninsula of Muckross, which skirts the
northern shore of Tore lake, is on one side com-
posed of layers of brown stone, and the other of
lime-stone, copper-mines, formerly worked here,
being the division of these strata.
We re-entered the Lower Lake under Brickeen
bridge, and coasted along the shores of Muckross,
Castlelough, and Ross, passing a variety of small
islands with fantastically-shaped arches and caves,
84 ECHOES ON THE LAKES. '
and many having some legend or story connected
with them. We pause opposite Ross Castle, and
Gandsey awakens the echoes. It is a lovely still
evening, and. the air being denser in the evening
than in the morning, the vibrations are slower.
Echoes, we know, are produced by the air being
set in motion, and striking against some repel-
ling object. Now we breathlessly listen to a
" wild and melancholy strain " the best suited
to the beautiful hour and scene. Before this
proud old monument of other days, what more
fitting than an Irish melody to awaken the slum-
bering echo ! Our boatmen proceed on their
homeward course, and long after we have landed
those notes haunt me : —
"The viewless spirit of a lovely sound, —
A living voice — a breathing harmony —
A bodiless enjoyment."
THE LAKES REVISITED. 85
CHAPTER IX.
THE LAKES REVISITED. o'dONOGHUe's PRISON. OLD WEIR
BRIDGE. ECHOES OF KILLARNEY. EFFECT OF THE SINGLE
BUGLE ON THE ECHOES. LADY MULGRAVE AND THE WHORTLE-
BERRIES.— LONG RANGE. — THE PRIESt's LEAP. BEAUTIFUL
AND ROMANTIC SCENERY. RONAYNe's ISLAND. — PREPARATIONS
FOR A FOX-HUNT. — GAP OF DUNLOE. — MELODIOUS FOX-HUNT
IN THE GAP. DINNER IN THE GAP HOTEL.
Our early breakfast is speedily gone through
next morning, and the dew is yet sparkling on the
grass, as we wend our way to the boat ; a resolu-
tion has been moved and carried nem. con., that
all the party must be familiar with the lakes
before fresh ground is explored. There are clouds
resting on Tomies and Mangerton, but our boat-
men assure us it will be a fine day, and most
weather-wise they prove.
We cross the Lower Lake, passing pretty islands
mostly composed of grey marble, and sending
up flourishing trees as richly decked as if they
sprang from the finest garden-loam. There is
CTDonoghue,s prison, and here are his wine-
86 ECHOES OF KILLARNEY.
cellars, and further on his library ; he was a great
chieftain, according to the legends of the lakes,
but, in my belief, in old Irish hospitality and
old Irish learning I would fain believe his cellars
and his book-shelves were more profitably sup-
plied.
We disembark at the Old Weir Bridge, which
we all heroically " shoot-" on our return ; a rather
hazardous exploit, unless your steersman be very
steady, and that there is water enough in the
bridge. The sensation of passing down so rapidly
is agreeable, and I daresay the very fact of a
little nervousness heightens the enjoyment ; at
any rate, I confess to a pleasant feeling of security
when our boat lay in the tranquil pool below
the bridge.
Through a natural channel our way wound most
delightfully, and we draw up opposite the Eagle's
Nest, and we pause for a few minutes while two
of the boatmen prepare the cannon, and discharge it.
No sound was returned to the report for some
seconds, but then it came like approaching
thunder; and again another pause, and a second
burst of echo, and then four distinct repetitions
all along and around the hills, now dying away,
now swelling again into loud tones.
Gandsey had disappeared over the top of the
rock, but before leaving the boat he politely
ECHOES OF KILLARNEY. 87
enquired what were the ladies1 favourite tunes ;
one, filled with a sudden amor patria, shouted out
" Rule Britannia,1' another " Auld Lang Syne,"
and a third " The Groves of Blarney," and he
pleased all parties by playing the two last named,
and loyally substituting "God save the Queen"
for the first.
The eifect of the single bugle played here,
must be heard to be understood ; it is something
like enchantment. A little child brought here
some short time ago, on hearing the wondrous
melody, clapped his hands, exclaiming, " Oh !
mamma, mamma, there is a beautiful band play-
ing up the mountains." The last notes of the
Irish air had died away, and I thought how
aptly the sweet lines of the Bard of Erin de-
scribed what we had just heard.
" The wild notes he heard o'er the waters were those
To which he had sung Erin's bondage and woes,
And the breath of the bugle now wafted them o'er
From Dinis' green isle to Glenaa's wooded shore.
"He listened — while high o'er the Eagle's rude nest
The lingering sounds on their way loved to rest ;
And the echoes hung back from their full mountain choir,
As if loth to let song so enchanting expire.
" It seemed as if every sweet note that died here
Was again brought to life in some airier sphere,
Some heaven in those hills where the soul of the strain
That had ceased upon earth was awaking again ! "
88 LONG RANGE.
A little anecdote, so characteristic of native wit,
was told me here, that I must insert it. In 1836
the popular Viceroy of Ireland, then Lord Mul-
grave, visited Killarney, and on the stag-hunt
day, the local enjoyment, par excellence, his Excel-
lency and Lady Mulgrave mounted this rock, and
seated on its summit, awaited the reappearance
of the hounds who were lying perdu in the woods.
A young mountaineer boldly approached the
group and offered a plate of hurts or wortle-
berries for sale. Lady Mulgrave taking them,
expressed a wish to see the fruit on its parent
stem ; away scampered the boy and returned in a
very short time with a prickly branch thickly
studded with the little black berries, and this he
tendered her ladyship, and on receiving a liberal
reward, he made his exit from the scene in double
quick time. The hurts he knew grew at some
distance,, but furze in plenty was near, and on the
pricks of a branch of this he inserted the berries
in a most natural manner, and all acknowledged
the young rogue's wit deserved the reward it had
obtained for him.
The passage to the Upper Lake, called the
Long Range, is about three miles and a half
in length, and is beautifully enclosed within
mountains, and varied by fantastic rocks and
pretty bays. The entrance to the Upper Lake
ROMANTIC SCENERY. 89
is so narrow that our boatmen had to shorten
their oars, but that did not prevent their calling
our attention to the print of Coleman's feet in
the rock, this pass being called the priest's leap ;
at any rate the priest's feet were not fellows !
The character of this lake is distinct from the
others, and it is unsurpassed in variety and
beauty, its numerous islands decked with the
richest foliage, and its mountains wooded and
rugged alternately, all combine to form a lovely
scene. The lake is three miles long, but narrow.
The mountain to the south called Cromiglaune
rises from the very water :
" Nor fern, nor sedge,
Pollute the clear lake's crystal edge ;
Abrupt and sheer the mountains sink
At once upon the level brink."
Back of Cromiglaune is Esknamucky, and more
westerly, Derrycunibeg, each with a fine cascade.
We rowed up the last named river to the ruins
of a once pretty cottage, the situation command-
ing a sweet view, and where now flowers bloom
around in rich abundance, forming a striking con-
trast in their natural gay luxuriance to the ruined
work of man.
We next ascended Ronayne's island, from
which the best view of the lake is obtained ;
90 PREPARATIONS FOR A FOX-HUNT.
and we scarcely knew which side to turn to, such
beauties arose around us.
Then we crossed to the landing place at Ghera-
niine cottage, built in a viewless enclosure of
thick evergreens, and the boldest amongst us
ascended the tower in the little garden, which
commanded a magnificent prospect; beyond, lay
the wild Coom Dhubh (the Black Valley), with its
lake and winding river sparkling in the sunbeams,
and cased in by the majestic rocks. We lingered
so long by the way that the shades of evening
were falling as we reached Dinis Cottage, where
we dined.
The slumbers of the lazy ones next morning
are disturbed by considerable excitement at the
hotel, an unusual relay of outside cars and ponies
are drawn up outside, and, on enquiry, we find
that there is to be a fox-hunt at the gap of
Dunloe, and we are told that the music of the
" Laune beagles " is worth listening to. We are
further informed, that two packs of hounds are
kept in the neighbourhood, one by a thorough
sportsman, and the other by a young gentleman,
who obligingly keeps his pack together during the
summer months for stag-hunting, and boards them
among his tenantry during the rest of the year.
We are off without delay, and a pleasant drive
brings us opposite Dunloe castle, where we alight
GAP OF DUNLOE. 91
from our vehicles to inspect a lately-discovered
subterranean chamber, in a field by the road-side :
it is formed by dry stone-work, confining the sides,
and supporting the flags of the ceiling. In it
were found some bones, some human, and some
those of a pig, and a skull of an unusually large
size, which quickly crumbled into dust on exposure
to the air. On the supporting flags are inscrip-
tions, in the Ogham character, read by antiquaries
as two persons1 names, and this very fact would
prove it to be an ancient sepulchre.
Moore says that u The traditions relating to
the use of the Ogham, in sepulchral inscriptions,
may be traced far into past times, and among
other ancient writings, in which allusion to it
occurs, may be mentioned the tale of the three
children of Usreach, ' one of the three tragic stories
of Eirin,' in which the interment of the young lovers
is thus druidically represented : — ' After this song,
Deirdri flung herself upon Naisi in the grave, and
died forthwith ; and the stones were laid over
their monumental heap, their Ogham name was
inscribed, and their dirge of lamentation was
sung." "
The entrance to the Gap of Dunloe is terrifically
grand ; on each side mountains project, and rocks
upon rocks lie scattered about in seeming careless-
ness. The scenery here is so totally different
92 MELODIOUS FOXHUNT
from the beauties at the other side of this moun-
tain to our left, which is aptly termed the Purple
mountain, not from the heather or heath-blossom,
as many have supposed, but from the broken
pieces of purple slate covering its surface. The
readers of that highly- wrought tale, the " Col-
legians," will here recognise the temporary abiding
place of the gentle Eily O'Connor, in Poll
Naghten's house.
The road through the Gap winds, now round
the mountain-side, overhanging a steep precipice,
and now on the brink of a dark mountain-lake.
There are five lakes, and we halted on the
picturesque old bridge just below the second
lake, when a burst of melody, from the finely-
tongued beagles, made us turn our eyes to the
mountain on our left. The hounds had just found a
fox, and, high up the cliffs, we distinguished the
pack, and, after them, scrambling through the
steep rocks, the huntsmen in their red jackets.
The effect was truly magnificent, for the cry of
the dogs was chorused by numberless echoes all
around the hills. Onward ran the fox, and close
on his trail came the clogs, and onward, along the
road, in cars and carriages, on horses and ponies,
came, helter-skelter, the whole cavalcade of resi-
dents and strangers : it was a novel way of fox-
hunting, and, certainly, a most gay, exhilarating
IN THE GAP. 93
one. A fair equestrian loses her hat in the gallop,
and a stout gentleman gets a roll in the dust, for
his weight has proved too much for the well-used
girths of the old saddle, but we all gain the
height over the third lake, and here we pause.
There is silence now among the pack, for the wily
fox has skulked somewhere, and all eagerly listen ;
there, a well-tried hound has found sly reynard,
and, hark, the whole pack are again on him, with
a crash, like a band of musicians. " Tally-ho !
tally-ho ! ,1 resounds up the mountains ; now the
hounds hunt in view — now a cluster of rocks
baffle them — the fox runs short — there he makes a
quick turn, and down from the cliffs he comes,
and, with the native gallantry of an Irishman,
crosses the road, ahead of our cavalcade, the
splendid pack in full cry. Back we turn,
equestrians, charioteers, and pedestrians, and, far
up the purple mountain, we descry the dogs, and,
every now and then, their notes are borne to us
on the wind; the huntsmen toil up the steep
ascent — there is a red jacket close to the pack —
now they descend, and again we hear a crash,
and now all is silent, and one feels almost sorry
to hear that the poor fox is killed.
We have been hospitably invited to partake of
a rural dinner in the homely Gap hotel, as it is
called, and a merrier party never met round a
94 DINNER IN THE GAP HOTEL.
table, nor did more justice to the abundant good
things, provided with true Killarney hospitality,
St. Patrick looking down on us benignly all
the time from an al fresco painting on the humble
walls.
The view from the end of the Gap above the
upper lake, and on the lakes of Coom Dhubh, is
exquisite, and, as we returned through the Gap,
amid the deepening shades of evening, a certain
feeling of regret came over me that such a plea-
sant day was passed. There was much around
us to recall other times, and I was picturing to
myself the great convulsion of nature that rent
these huge mountains asunder, and was weaving
in my reverie a little romance about two of the
first visitors to this chasm, and letting my pony
go on unguided ; there was a beautiful Milesian
maiden, and, of course, a brave cavalier, belonging
to the more ancient stock of the island, whom the
sons of Milesius had deprived of his ancestral acres,
and there was a courtship among those very
scenes — I was far back in the past, when I was
recalled to the present by the shrill voice of a
ragged urchin, holding up before me a bunch of
heath, surrounding a water-lily, and exclaiming,
" Ah ! gev me a ha'penny."
VISIT TO AGHADOE CHURCH. 95
CHAPTER X.
VISIT TO AGHADOE CHURCH AND ITS POPULOUS CEMETERY. —
FOUNDATION OF AGHADOE. — ASCENT OF MANGERTON. BEAU-
TIFUL PROSPECT. ANNOYANCE OF MOUNTAINEER GUIDES.
LOUGH KITTANE. PECULIAR BROWN TROUT. MUCKROSS
ABBEY. TOMBS OF THE MACCARTHY MORE AND THE
O'DONOGHUE MORE. "DRAKE, THE PILGRIM." FOUNDATION
OF MUCKROSS ABBEY. FAMILY OF PRESENT POSSESSORS.
MUCKROSS DEMESNE. REVISIT MUCKROSS ABBEY.
Yesterday was too fine and too delightful a
day to have many to-morrows like it, and so when
we got up and found lake and mountains all
shrouded in a thick mist, we could only remember
that every life has rain as well as sunshine mingled
in its course. And rain is now coming down in
such torrents, patter, patter, as fully to enable
us to comprehend how it can rain in KiJlarney.
But M has prophesied that the afternoon
will be fine, and he is right, and at the first
faint promise of sunshine, away we go to
Aghadoe Church on the hill side, with such
a populous cemetery ; skulls and bones lying
96 FOUNDATION OF AGHADOE.
about, and sheep feeding among the tombs ; yet
it is a cheerful burying-place, if one can imagine
this seeming contradiction : it looks down on
such scenes as even spirits might delight to
wander in.
In the interior of the old church, I saw a coffin ;
the lid was off, and within lay a form wrapped
in now discoloured grave-clothes ; about lay piled,
broken coffins and bones, and one must shudder
at such ghastly tokens of our mortality, and a
stranger to the Irish character feel that in these
exhibitions there must be a sort of disrespect to
their dead. This is not the case. No nation
respects their dead more — witness their wakes and
funerals ; and no nation loves more devotedly the
grave, however humble, of their parents; and no
nation believes more firmly in the promise of the
resurrection !
I questioned a countryman as to why these
bones and coffins were let lie about in that neg-
lected manner, and he told me that every family
had its own little grave, and that when that was
too full of coffins, the oldest coffin was taken up,
to give place to the new. " And sure," he added,
" all the church-yard is holy ground, praise be
to God ! "
Aghadoe was founded by an CTDonoghue; it was
the seat of a bishop, and a little below it rise the
ASCENT OF MANGERTON. 97
ruins of a round tower, and the episcopal see is
still called that of Ardfert and Aghadoe.
The new church of Aghadoe is a small but
pretty edifice, and close to it the late Lord Headley
is interred. He was a most excellent benevolent
nobleman, and all his exertions for his tenantry
and the poor were admirably seconded, and since
his death, have been carried out, by his most
amiable widow.
We finished our rambles of this day by an
evening stroll through Lord Kenmare's grounds,
all nature looking lovely in the freshness of sum-
mer rain.
The ascent of Mangerton is our next exploit,
and though a treacherous looking cloud rests on
its brow, it does not discourage our attempt. At
the village of Cloghereen we mount our ponies,
which bring us safely to the Devil's Punch-bowl,
which is of an oval form, about four furlongs
round, and the water of an icy coldness. Here
we dismount, and walk up the brow of the moun-
tain, and pause every now and then to gaze
on the beauty of the landscape lying below us.
Northward are seen the Shannon and the Clare
coasts ; north-west, Castlemaine and Dingle Bays,
with their chain of mountains ; farther west the
towering rocks attract attention, and immediately
below lie the beauteous lakes in tranquil beauty ;
98 ANNOYANCE OF MOUNTAINEERS.
turn to the south, and you have mountains, in
varied shapes, with the Kemnare River gleaming
between, and in the far distance, Bantry Bay.
One of our party, being a zealous botanist,
picked up some curious specimens of mosses and
ferns, and while he was carefully arranging them
we bivouacked for a short space on the cliff side,
looking down into the deep dark valley of Gleanne
Coppall, or the " horses' glen ;" around us are a
" monster meeting " of mountaineers, headed by
Sir Richard Courteney, knight, who tells that
he derives his title from having ascended the
mountain with a lord lieutenant, who being
benighted on Mangerton, knighted him.
Many strangers have complained of the an-
noyance of such a concourse of guides following
them, but we found more of the ludicrous than
the disagreeable in our " tail." Our attempts to
dissuade them from accompanying the party
were quite unavailing, and as we paused on the
summit, M tried his powers of eloquence in a
rather lengthened oration, proving the mischief
of idleness, the comfort of employment. A
smart black-eyed nymph, evidently V enfant gdtee
of the troop, saucily replied " Sure, your honour,
we work all the winter and spring, and, like the
quality, we take our divarshion in the fine
weather.'1
MUCKROSS ABBEY, 99
Ordering our ponies to meet us near the shores
of Lough Kittane, we descended the footpath
through the glen, and winding downwards it
was toilsome ; but the view of the beautiful and
fantastically shaped mountains all around us, the
dark lakes with the sun gleaming on their
southern shores, and throwing the rest of their
waters into deeper shadow, was well worth a
far more trying pilgrimage.
Lough Kittane is two miles long, and one and
a half broad, and is well supplied with excellent
trout. We saw some patient anglers trying their
skill as we passed.
There is a small river about seven miles from
Killarney which flows from a small mountain-lake
near the mountains called the Paps, into the
river Flesk, in which are found during the summer
months a very exquisite kind of brown trout. They
do not rise to the fly, but are taken by nets :
they are found only in this stream.
We retrace our steps to the village of Clogh-
ereen next day, and enter beautiful Muckross,
and immediately before us lies the old abbey,
anciently called Irrelagh : it is a noble ruin, and
until recent years was quite overgrown with rank
weeds, and disfigured by the disinterred relics of
mortality piled about in every direction ; but now,
the whole is kept in decent order, and the me-
f 2
100 MUCKROSS ABBEY.
mentos of our future, buried. It is said that none
but Catholics are buried here ; it is a thickly
peopled grave-yard, and as we loitered about the
ruins, we heard approaching the plaintive wailing
of the funeral cry, and from the pathway over the
arched doorway entering the abbey we watched
the solemn service of committing " dust to dust,"
and the sonorous voice of the priest repeating the
Exequies rose over the sobs of the women round
the grave.
Muckross Abbey is in good preservation, the
gloomy cloisters shaded by the monstrous yew
measuring 13 feet in circumference, still very
perfect ; and let the profane hand of the tourist
tremble if he touch this sacred tree. Woes innu-
merable overshadow him, but I would not that
any word of mine lessened the belief in this
admirable superstition, so excellent in preserving
unharmed this noble tree.
On entering the abbey by the arched doorway,
highly adorned with an architrave and mouldings,
we were struck by a monument erected by the
inhabitants of Killarney, to a lady who was, I
heard, taken suddenly from a life of active bene-
volence, deeply and deservedly lamented ; the
monument is of Italian marble, already much
injured by time. We pass various tablets to
departed worth around us, and pause, facing
"DRAKE THE PILGRIM." 101
the beautiful Gothic window in the choir near
the tomb of the MacCarthy More, and the
0\Donoghue More, bearing this inscription written
by a country schoolmaster.
u What more could Homer's most illustrious verse,
Or pompous Tully's stately prose rehearse,
Than what this monumental stone contains
In death's embrace MacCarthy More's remains ?
Hence, reader, learn the sad and certain fate
That waits on man, spares not the good or great ;
And while this venerable marble calls
Thy patriot tear perhaps that trickling falls,
And bids thy thoughts to other days return,
And with a spark of Erin's glory burn ;
While to her fame most grateful tributes flow,
Oh ! ere you turn, one warmer drop bestow,
If Erin's chiefs deserve thy generous tear,
Heir of their worth O'Donoghue lies here."
O'Donoghue More of the Glens, departed this life
21st February, 1803, aged 31 years. The last
CTDonoghue who died in Italy in 1833, is also
buried here : his only son, a minor, survives.
The number of rooms up-stairs in the abbey
surprised me ; all have their different appel-
lations, and one is particularly pointed out as the
room in which " Drake the pilgrim " lived.
Within the memory of the old people living
around Muckross, this hermit took up his abode
in the abbey, and whether he were a great saint
102 MUCKROSS DEMESNE.
or a great sinner doing penance for some dark
crimes, is, like most questions, a matter of doubt ;
the local popular belief inclines to the former
opinion, especially as Drake existed without any-
visible food, and it was supposed sometimes ate
rats ! He disappeared from the scene leaving
" no trace behind. "
Muckross Abbey was founded in 1440, by
Donald MacCarthy for Franciscan monks, re-
paired in 1602, and on the dissolution of religious
houses, was granted, with Innisfallen Abbey, to
Robert Collam. About a hundred years ago the
bell belonging to it was found in the lake near
Muckross shore.
The family of the present possessor of Muckross
was among the Elizabethan settlers in Kerry ;
their first settlement was near Castleisland in this
county ; they were followers or dependants of the
Lord Powis of that day, and they have prospered
on the forfeited lands of the ancient races. They
have had no reason to regret the more prosperous
country they had left.
Muckross demesne is one of unrivalled beauty,
and we had a delicious ramble on quitting the
abbey, over the green hills, and then through the
walks by the edge of the lake. A drive through
the peninsula of Muckross brought us to Denis
island, over Brickeen bridge ; and thence to the
REVISIT MUCKROSS ABBEY. 103
Kenmare road. The magnificent mountains
all around looked so enchantiug in their lights
and shadows, that we extended our drive to the
Tunnel, and while our horses were taking a
" thaste of oats," as our coachman expressed it,
we had an impromptu concert on the top of the
Tunnel. Returning homewards, we stepped aside
to view the very pretty waterfall of Eskna-
mucky, and the beautiful one of Tore, supplied
from the waters of the Devil's Punch-bowl ; a
winding path brings us over the cataract. Our
ascent to Mangerton has made us familiar with
the view, but that to me only increases the charm
of the lovely prospect.
Days glide by quickly in sweet Killarney, and
the genuine hospitality, racy of the soil, is kindly
extended to pilgrims in the " Land of the west."
A week after our first visit to Muckross Abbey
we are tempted to a second by a cloudless autumn-
moon shining as brightly as an autumnal moon
above can shine, and, as we stroll down the dark
walk leading to the abbey, M repeats in low
but clear tones —
" If thou wouldst view fair Muckross aright
Go visit it by the pale moonlight,
For the gay beams of lightsome day
Gild, but to flout the ruins grey,
When the broken arches are black in night,
And each shafted oriel dimmers white ;
104 REVISIT MUCKROSS ABBEY.
When the cold light's uncertain shower
Streams on the ruined central tower ; —
* # # * *
Then go — but go alone the while,
And home returning soothly swear
Was never scene so sad and fair."
And truly the scene before us was like the
beautiful vision of a vivid dream, all around
seemed so still, so calm, so unreal, so unlike the
noisy world we had left behind.
M 's example of repeating some appropriate
lines of poetry, was followed by each of us as we
stood together under the deep shadow of the yew
in the cloister, and when it came to my turn, I
chose those pretty lines written by G. R. P.
James on his visit to Muckross Abbey, and I
could fancy those " monks of old " hovering about
those dim cloisters aud winning their way to
Heaven in blessed hope, looking calmly on the
world they had quitted, and looking trustfully to
the world they were journeying to.
" I envy them, those monks of old,
Their books they read, and their beads they told,
To human softness dead and cold,
And all life's vanity.
" They dwelt like shadows on the earth,
Free from the penalties of birth,
Nor let one feeling venture forth
But charity.
REVISIT MUCKROSS ABBEY. 105
" I envy them : their cloister'd hearts
Knew not the bitter pang that parts
Beings that all affection's arts
Had link'd in unity.
" The tomb to them was not a place
To drown the best loved of their race,
And blot out each sweet memory's trace
In dull obscurity.
" To them it was the calmest bed
That rests the aching human head,
They looked with envy on the dead,
And not with agony.
" No bonds they felt, no ties they broke,
No music of the heart they woke
When one brief moment it had spoke
To lose it suddenly.
" Peaceful they lived, peaceful they died,
And those that did their fate abide
Saw brothers wither by their side
In all tranquillity.
" They loved not, dreamed not, for their sphere
Held not joy's visions ; but the tear
Of broken hope, of anxious fear,
Was not their misery.
(< I envy them, those monks of old,
And when their statues I behold
Carved in the marble, calm and cold,
How true an effigy !
" I wish my heart as calm and still
To beams that float, and blasts that chill,
And pangs that pay joy's spendthrift thrill
With bitter agony."
f 5
106 STAG-HUNT IN LOCH LEIN.
CHAPTER XL
STAG-HUNT IN LOCH LEIN. RED DEER. CAPTURE OF THE STAG.
LUDICROUS CLOSE OF THE HUNT. REVISIT GLENAA. PE-
CULIAR FASHION OF ROASTING SALMON. MIRTH AND MUSIC.
STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS.
All strangers visiting Killarney, look with
much pleasure to witnessing the far-famed sport
of a stag-hunt on lovely Loch Lein, and we
accepted with pleasure an invitation to attend
one in a kind friend's boat, and by the appointed
hour, twelve o'clock, we were punctually at the
place of meeting, which was the farthest extremity
of the Upper Lake.
The owner of the summer pack gives frequent
stag-hunts ; that is, he names a day for one, and
you see the hounds and the huntsmen, and at rare
intervals you may catch a glimpse of the stag,
or something like it, which probably turns out
to be a cow. ' But these hunts, though often
complete failures as far as regards sport, are
benefits to residents, strangers, boatmen, guides ;
they bring all together, and the multitudes of
RED DEER. 107
boats filled with gaily-dressed ladies and gentle-
men, all moving about amid that lovely scenery,
presents a most pleasing picture.
The red deer abound through the Killarney
mountains ; they are a beautiful animal, and in
this harmless hunting, escape without injury from
the hounds.
Here we have paused on our oars a full hour,
and no dogs or huntsmen have we yet seen; but
we are more disposed to give Mr. H many
good wishes for bringing us to such a beautiful
scene, than the reverse for the non-appearance
of the hunt.
Hark ! there is a shout in that wood to the left,
called Crohane. " Probably that's an imprime,"
exclaims a sportsman near me ; — there the dogs
give tongue, chopping, now one dog, now another,
and then there is silence.
We row about, and gaze and gaze again all
around us. Our neighbours in the boats all
seem in as good humour as is our merry party
— and who could help feeling a joyous mood in
sweet Killarney ?
We are now up the Derrycunibeg river, and
on the marsh, to our right hand, are two or three
straggling hounds, looking very much as if they
did not exactly know what was expected of them ;
they disappear from the scene, a succession of
108 REVISIT GLENAA.
mountaineers take their place, and there are a
few enterprising tourists on mountain-ponies —
come, this looks something like a hunt !
Another long pause, enlivened by the hum of
conversation, and in the boats now and again a
silvery laugh. Listen, there is a shout — another,
and another ; this is exciting ; we all stand up,
and advancing from the woods, across the marsh
is a crowd of men, bearing the stag, not wounded
or maimed, or dead, but struggling, in the full
vigour of a sturdy mountaineer, against this in-
glorious capture ; — he is blindfolded, tied all fours
together, in the farmer's fashion of securing a calf
which he is taking to market, hauled roughly into a
boat, and rowed away, all panting and foaming, to
Muckross. He is safe from the dogs, which are
" nowhere."
A band in a neighbouring boat strikes up, " See
the conquering hero comes,"" but whether the
tune is meant to honour the stag for conquering
the hounds, or the man that holds down the poor
animal's head, I was unable to ascertain.
Glenaa is our resting-place, and we gladly
revisit its delightful walks, awaiting the hour of
dinner : among the preparations for it we in-
spect the salmon-roasting, in that fashion peculiar
to Killarney. The fish was cut into pieces, and
these were dexterously inserted on little wooden
STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS. 109
spits ; a turf or peat fire was kindled in the open
air, and round it stuck upright in the sod was
the salmon, which was carefully basted with
salt and water sprinkled on it from a verdant
bunch of arbutus.
There was abundance of mirth and music that
pleasant evening, and dancing kept up with
spirit, first on the green sward, overhanging
the lake, and then in the banqueting room, to
which the rain drove us.
I had been anticipating a moonlight row across
that beauteous lake, but instead, I had a very-
damp one under a dripping umbrella, shared
with a most agreeable elderly gentleman, a keen
sportman, who, in commenting on the laughable
attempt at a stag-hunt we witnessed to-day, gave
me the following little sketch which I give in
his own words.
A STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS.
" ' The good old times' is a sentence in every
one's mouth who has seen something of life, and
I never can more aptly use the term than in
applying it to the stag-hunts we used to have
in Killarney some years ago.
" It was then worth getting your boat and
crew into order, and a good broiling from the
110 STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS.
sun, or a good wetting, was cheaply purchased
by the pleasure of a real hunt.
" I well remember the stag-hunt T am about
to describe to you ; the public announcement of
it appointed Tomies as the place of meeting,
and added — 'That the mountains would be man-
ned, and the hounds laid on at precisely twelve
o'clock.''
" The morning dawned in summer brightness,
the lake lay unruffled in glassy stillness, reflecting
the mountains, and tracing the beautiful islands
in shadowy verdure, on its bosom.
" At the then place of embarkation, Ross Quay,
all was noise and confusion ; each crew emulously
struggling to have their boat off first, to have
the honour of gaining the place of rendezvous
before their rivals.
" I recollect three young boys in a punt striving
vigorously to beat a six-oared whaler, their little
arms manfully plying their oars, and their cock-
swain, an old woman, with a basket of fruit and
cakes, urging them on.
" The signal-gun was just fired, when we reached
the Tomies shore, and a short pause of almost
breathless silence ensued.
" Our boatmen told us a stag was ' in lair '
in a small copse near the lake's edge, and that
some mountaineers had seen him that morning.
STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS. Ill
" Very soon the hounds got on his track, and
roused him from his repose ; they ' gave tongue '
in magnificent style, and their cry resounded and was
reverberated by numberless echoes from the cliffs
around. But our whole attention was now fixed
on the stag, who, driven from his lair, appeared
galloping along the shore towards Benson's Point,
now for some hundred yards in view, by the
water's edge, and now disappearing among the
thickets, the hounds following quickly on his
scent ; the leading dog pauses for a moment,
as if to make sure, then bays joyfully, and
the whole pack join in the cry. I felt a
degree of fear for the beautiful animal's safety,
but a second thought told me he would tire
out hounds and huntsmen before he was taken
— and so he did.
" Along the shore the pack undeviatingly
tracked him ; he, however, ' doubled ' on his pur-
suers, and twice appeared among the opens at
Tomies.
" A movement among the boats now attracted
our attention, and the cry of ' the stag's making
for the cascade,' put our boat in motion :
all the crews strenuously exerted themselves to
lose no time in gaining that point.
*' Here we rested on our oars ; for a time all
was silence amid the woods, when suddenly there
112 STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS.
arose shout upon shout from the hunters, followed
by the deep-toned bay of some of the hounds,
who had an ' imprime,"> and then the whole pack
joined in.
" l Rock wood, I hear you ; forward on him,
Bluemaid, and Snowball,1 shouted the full clear-
toned voice of the master of the pack, with the
unmistakable enthusiasm of the real sportsman,
and through the woods towards Glenaa on dashed
the stag, the hounds pursuing him, and on we
went, hunting in boats.
" Into that exquisite bay near Glenaa, between
Stag and Burnt Island, all the foremost boats
rowed.
" Above, rose hills upon hills, clothed in the
richest woods, and amid these appeared an occa-
sional hunter in his red jacket ; the hounds were
in full cry, and their music came clearly down
to us, with now and then the inspiring shout
of a huntsman — the stag is over the brow of
the mountain, and on the shore beyond this
bay he appears, clears at a bound some fishing
nets hanging on poles, and dashes again into the
woods.
" To me it seemed almost impossible that the
huntsmen could follow him through those thick
steep woods, but they did so. Here for about half
an hour he baffled his pursuers; an occasional
STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS. 113
burst from the hounds made us hope he was
again found, and so he was.
" 4 He'll make for the Eagle's Nest,' shouted a
mountaineer on the strand, and this was the
signal for a regular boat-race, or rather an irre-
gular succession of them to the Old Weir bridge.
Such a scene of confusion as it presented can
be more readily fancied than described.
" Beyond Miss Plummets island we paused, and
soon breaking from the woods on our right hand,
and crossing the swampy land, appeared the stag.
Many boats rowed forward to intercept his pro-
gress, but on the request of the master of the
hounds to ' give fair play,' they drew back,
and he swam the channel just ahead of us in
gallant style. He turned towards Tore : in-
stead of waiting to see the hounds, just then
issuing from the wood, track him to the water's
edge, as I should have preferred, the boatmen would
not hear of such a disgraceful delay, and amid a
second edition of the confusion of our upward
voyage we struggled onward to Tore lake.
" Happy those in the last boat up the Old Weir
bridge, for they were the first down, and still
happier those who gained their destination with-
out broken oars, or wet clothes splashed in the
commotion.
" The quiet lake presented that day a most
114 STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS.
animated and beautiful scene ; the water was a
deep glassy blue, and the woods were just begin-
ning to be tinted by the varied foliage of autumn.
I reckoned sixty-seven boats, and many of these
being private ones, had handsome flags ; the
crews wore pretty boating costumes ; one sail-
boat alone was out, and its white sail hung idly
in the still air. Sail-boats are considered very
dangerous on those lakes, owing to the frequent
mountain-squalls.
" There is a burst of melody from the hounds,
and we hear that the stag dashed along the
new line of road frightening several pedestrians,
and some fair equestrians.
"'Come out the boats,' is now the cry, and
down on the lake's edge, near Dinis island, the
stag appears, and takes the Sorgle most grace-
fully; the hounds follow close, and plunge into
the water after him. It was a charming sight
to see the noble animal swimming gallantly
away, seeking protection from man, and the now
tired hounds panting after him.
" One staunch old dog had closed in on him —
he is weary, but he makes one spring forward,
and rests on the stag's back, and from this posi-
tion he is taken, the stag safely captured by one
of the hardiest boat -crews, and the dogs called to
shore by the huntsman.
STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS. 115
" And now it was really a gay scene, the boats
were all collected as near as they could round
the boat in which lay the stag, with oars up,
and bugles playing : I counted five different tunes,
all echoed back from the mountains, making such
a medley of sounds.
" From this we repaired to Glenaa bay, and
there the stag was ' enlarged' or set at liberty,
and he swam bravely back to his mountain-
solitudes; he gained the strand, a loud hurrah !
proclaimed him free, he looked round as if to
acknowledge the compliment, tossed his beautiful
antlers, and darted into the woods.
" This stag was nine years old ; the age of deer
is ascertained by the number of horns on their
antlers ; they shed these every year, and most
carefully conceal them, the mountaineers say, and
every new pair brings an additional horn.
" The stag-hunt was now over, and we all
moved towards Innisfallen, where every rock
was converted into a dining-table, and later on,
dancing began on the green before the old ban-
queting house, strangers mingling with strangers,
and all enjoying themselves.
" The evening shades were deepening into night,
when we disembark for Ross Quay. A merry
group attracted my attention going to the boat,
they were gaily dancing to the music of a piper
116 STAG-HUNT OF OTHER DAYS.
who played very appropriately in jig- time, 6 We
won't go home till morning;' and among the
dancers I recognized the sturdy young boatmen
of the morning, looking on, and with a now
empty basket by her side, sat their old cox-
wain. Ah ! these were really the ' gay old
times,1 the like of which we shall never again
see in Kearney."
EXCURSION TO KENMARE. 11
CHAPTER XII.
EXCURSION TO KENMARE. DRUIDICAL CIRCLE AT LISSAVIGEEN .
THE ROBBER'S CAVE. — KENMARE HOTEL. CASTELLATED
POLICE STATION. CHARMING SCENERY. — BONFIRES AND RE-
JOICINGS FOR MR. O'CONNELL'S LIBERATION. A MOUNTAIN-
EXCURSION. — TRADITION RESPECTING KILLALEE CHURCH. —
HAG'S GLEN. ASCENT OF CARRAN TUAL MOUNTAIN. PER-
DITION PASS. SCENE FROM THE MOUNTAIN-TOP. ROSS ISLAND.
ROSS CASTLE. RURAL RAMBLES. THUNDER-STORM AMONG
THE MOUNTAINS.
We had for some days been planning an
excursion to Kenmare, and we say " good night,"
resolving that we will make the attempt to-
morrow, We are up betimes, for it is now
early September, and consequently the days are
shortening.
Our cars come to the door, and well provided
with coats, cloaks, and umbrellas, with capes
warranted impervious to the rain : that they are
not so to mountain-showers C 's once green
dress (varied now blue and yellow) can testify.
Away we go, though there is a drizzling mist,
and the mountains look suspiciously foggy : we
118 DRUIDICAL CIRCLE.
rattle through Killarney, bringing more than one
sleepy face surmounted by a night-cap to look at us
from the windows in the " New street,'1 rather
ridiculously so called, and we drive on to Glen-
fleet.
About three miles from Killarney, we turn off
the main road to inspect a very perfect Druid's
circle, at Lissavigeen. This druidical circle con-
sists of seven upright stones, about three and a
half feet high, and of two upright stones, of larger
dimensions ; these are surrounded by a circular
embankment, measuring- about 140 feet in cir-
cumference, distant nearly SO feet from the
stones.
" Pray don't neglect to quote Moore on
druidical circles,'" said M , laughing, and I
follow his advice. In vol. i. chap. % of his
" Irish History," he mentions them as thickly
scattered through Ireland.
" That most common of all Celtic monuments,
the Cromlech," he writes, " which is found not
only in most parts of Europe, but also in Asia,
and exhibits, in the strength and simplicity of its
materials, the true character of the workmanship
of antiquity, is also to be found in various shapes
and sizes among the mountains of Ireland.
" The rough unhewn stone, however, used in
their circular temples by the Druids, was the true
THE ROBBER'S CAVE. 119
orthodox observance of the Divine command de-
livered to Noah, c If thou wilt make me an altar
of stone, thou shalt build it of hewn stone.1 For
even those nations which lapsed into idolatry still
retained the first patriarchal pattern, and carried
it with them in their colonizing expeditions
throughout the world. All monuments, therefore,
which depart from the primitive observance just
mentioned are to be considered as belonging to
a comparatively recent date."
There is a partial gleam of sunshine as we
approach the mountains ; there are our old friends
Tore and Mangerton, and the Sugar Loaf over
Lough Kittane, and our road winds by Crohane,
passing Killaha, an old O'Donoghue castle on our
right, and enters the wild mountain-pass of
Philadown ; the river is foaming by us, swelled by
the recent rain, and various little miniature cas-
cades tumble down the steep rocks by our way-
side.
Our president calls a halt, and up the mountain
we scramble, to visit the robber's cave, called
Labbig Owen, or Owen's bed, the retreat of a
noted robber, who, for years, lived securely here.
Slipping and sliding, we regain our cars, and
hold a council as to whether it is best to return
at once to Killarney or proceed on our excursion,
for the rain has again returned to us.
120 CASTELLATED POLICE-STATION.
Onwards, onwards is the cry of the glorious
minority, so the majority have only to button up
their coats, raise their umbrellas, and say they
defy the rain. Certainly, we look unlike a party
in search of the picturesque. We drive by
Crohane wood, and catch glimpses of hazy moun-
tains, and of flooded rivers : we pass Kilgarvan,
but neither its ruins nor its mines induce us to
delay, and we reach the hotel at Kenmare, with
our spirits rather depressed, and our garments
proving they were not impermeable. But what
will not a blazing turf-fire, an appetising early
dinner, with Blackwater salmon, and a promise of
a fine evening for our homeward route, effect ?
Three hours' rest here worked a wondrous
change in the inward and outward man, and we
bid a temporary adieu to Kenmare in high good
humour, determining to visit it again, en route to
Glen gar riff.
The weather keeps the pledge given us, and the
sun is preparing to " haste to the beautiful west,"
as we gain the summit of the mountain-road, pass
through Coom Dhubh (the Black Pass), leave
Fordell lake on our right hand, farther on a
castellated police-station (police, in these lovely
solitudes, seem out of keeping), and below us lies
such a view, the three lakes hemmed in by their
guardian mountains, and around us the luxuriant
BONFIRES AND REJOICINGS. 121
woods, glistening in the rain-drops ; we are at
home again amid these scenes, and our drive to
Cloghereen is a continuation of charms. Night is
closing in as we cross Flesk Bridge.
A sudden blaze of light is visible on Aghadoe
Hill ; it is a bonfire, now another, and another,
and, in a few minutes, I count sixteen different
beacon-fires, all around the hills. What can be
the reason ?
We enter Killarney, and that thrilling, joyous
shout comes pleasantly to tell us that O'Connell is
free. The sentence that imprisoned him has been
reversed by the Lords Denman, Cottenham, and
Campbell ; the mail from Dublin has just brought
the glad tidings, and the townspeople seem in a
frenzy of joy. There are partial illuminations,
hurriedly got up ; there are tar-barrels blazing, and
the ringing cheer, sending up a prayer and a
blessing on the liberated old man, and we drive
through the crowded streets, and think how
truly he lives in the hearts of the people.
On the following night the whole town was
very prettily illuminated ; we were invited to a
dancing party, and our gaiety within doors was
but the echo of that without, for, when we drove
away, the streets were still crowded, and, round
the huge bonfires, dancing was kept up with
spirit.
G
122 K1LLALEE CHURCH.
The week following this, one of our most de-
lightful day, in delightful Killarney, was spent
among the rocks, where a party had been kindly
planned for our amusement. There was to be the
ascent of Carran Tual, for the most adventurous,
a hunt in the valleys below it, and a dinner at a
rural mountain-lodge, and we eagerly watched the
setting sun on the previous evening, and augured
favourably from a glorious sunset, and, later on,
from a clear starry night.
That we were not sluggards on the morrow
may be easily imagined, and our cars and ponies
were in requisition at a very early hour, and all
the weather-wise assured us the day seemed as
if bespoken for our mountain -excursion. We fol-
lowed for about four miles the same road that leads
to the Gap of Dunloe.
I noticed on our right beyond Aghadoe, the
small ruined church of Killalee by the road-
side, and I was told it was an old Catholic
chapel of ease to Killarney, and the local tradi-
tion respecting it is, that a MacCarthy More,
who then lived at New Pallio (now Grena),
being one Sunday late for mass, felt so enraged
with the clergyman for commencing the service
without him, that he raised his riding- whip and
struck the clergyman on the altar, and after
this, the chapel was never used as a place of
hag's glen. 123
worship, and the race of this branch of the
MacCarthy More became extinct.
Our drive was through a wild bleak country
with beautiful mountains before us, and winding
round one, we came on a sweet valley so shut
out from the - world, the brawling river Giddah
being the only noise in the solitude.
This silence was short, for we halted at a
mountain-lodge, and a large merry party awaited
us. Here our plans were fixed for the ascent of
the mountain. Some ladies and several gentlemen
declared their wish to make the attempt, but
when we came afterwards to its base, the number
diminished to one enterprising lady and five
gentlemen.
The valley below the rocks is most magnificent ;
it is called the Coom Collee, or Hag's Glen, and
on the mountain-side is shown the hag's tooth,
a very formidable piece of rock; the lakes on
each side lying so calm in the deep shades of
the huge mountains, are a great addition to the
beauty of the scene. By these lakes we had to
dismount from our ponies, and scrambling over
rocks, we came to the very foot of Carran Tual
rising abruptly above us.
It is quite impossible to ascend those steep
rocks, the height being 3410 feet.
"The mountain is perpendicular!" were the
g 2
124 " PERDITION PASS."
exclamations of the lagging party, and they seated
themselves on the rocks around to await the
hunt. The hounds were now beating about,
trying to start a hare, and we turned to a toil-
some ascent. The path, if path it could be called,
lay between rough rocks, and strewed with shingle,
was very unpleasant walking ; literally perpen-
dicular it was in some places. On and on we
toiled, something on the principle of the snail,
two steps up and one down ; but we gained the
top of the pass, and there rested awhile from
our labours, enjoying an exquisite view.
The ravine we had just passed was called some
years since by an Englishman who ascended the
mountain " Perdition Pass," a very appropriate
name.
As we sat there, the cry of the hounds came
up to us from the valley below, multiplied by
numerous reverberations from the mountains
around.
A little above this pass we came on a beautiful
spring-well, and having first washed our hands
in the cooling element, we had a refreshing
draught, the first being a very necessary precaution
before the second is attempted.
The remainder of the ascent being a gradual
rise is comparatively easy, and we stood on
the summit of the highest mountain in Ireland,
and looked down on a prospect I never saw
equalled.
It was a singularly clear day, a cold easterly
wind blowing high up the mountain ; northward
lay the Shannon, the county Clare, and beyond it
the county Galway, with Galway Bay, and the
south isles of Arran ; westerly, the Kerry coast,
with its bays and mountains, and farther west
and south, mountains on mountains, with innu-
merable dark lakes lying between them in deep
solitude. Their pointed and varied shapes recalled
to me those lines :
" And Alps on Alps in clusters swelling
Mighty and pure, and fit to make
The ramparts of a godhead's dwelling."
The Kenmare river, with Bantry Bay and
their mountains, complete a view that must be
seen to be understood. No song could be more
appropriate to the occasion than the " Land of
the West," which one of our party sang with
great feeling ; but it was more the " Land of
the mountain and the flood ,1 than the " Sweet
land of verdure that springs from the sea."
Our descent was rapid — unlike real life, moral-
ized M , for in early morning how easy is our
onward course, how smooth our noontide, and
how uncertain our evening, and often troubled
our close of night !
1 26 ROSS ISLAND.
We were greeted with various lamentations by
our friends in the valley for the beautiful hunt
we had missed ; and we on our part condoled
with the lazy ones on the Yiew they had lost
seeing ; so we mutually sought consolation in
each other's disappointments, verifying La Roche-
faucauld\s saying, " that there is something pleas-
ing to us in the misfortunes of even our friends."
Perhaps there was even more comfort in the
excellent dinner after the bracing mountain-air,
and above all in that genuine cordiality which
seemed the reflection of the out-of-door's sunshine,
some gay country dances to the music of the
bagpipes, played by Gandsey, was a very agree-
able finale to a most delightful day.
We were well disposed for a quiet day after
this very fatiguing one, and with some friends,
we strolled through the grounds and drives of
Ross Island, whose pretty trim parterres and
nursery gardens are not, to my taste, in keeping
with the scenery around : there is one beau-
tiful walk in West Ross, in which we long loitered,
as the industrious among us proved by bunches
of wild strawberries strung on the long grass.
The trees in this island were cut down in 1803,
but have all grown up again, or have been re-
placed by others, now thriving in beauty and
variety,
RURAL RAMBLES. 127
There were very extensive copper-mines here,
which have many years ceased to be worked ;
near them we noticed a very fine grey marble
quarry.
At the entrance to these pleasure-grounds
stands Ross Castle, built by the family of the
O'Donoghue Ross ; it was taken by General Lud-
low, in 1652; it was the last place in Munster
that surrendered to the English. From the top
of the castle there is a lovely view ; the building
adjoining it was built as a barrack, and troops
were quartered here. But of recent years the
roof has been taken off, and ivy planted against
the walls, so that it gives promise of soon look-
ing like a real ruin.
We were now quite familiar with beautiful
Killarney, but before we left, we had delightful
rural rambles, some on our unfailing mountain
ponies, and some walks through Lord Kenmare,s
deer-park, a miniature Dargle, and through many
of the gentlemen's pretty places all around us.
One sunny morning we rode by the shores
of the Lower Lake, crossed the Laune ferry,
which is quite passable in dry weather, and
keeping a rude " bridle road,1'' i.e. a road on
which a bridle is of no use, we came into Tomies
wood, now blending in its autumnal tints every
variety of shade, and contrasting with the dark
128 MOUNTAIN THUNDER-STORM.
holly, which is here in such profusion. We
crossed the stream, which forms O'Sullivan's Cas-
cade, and came on a sweet view ; the bold bare
rock, called the " minister's back,11 projecting
before us, and below the tranquil lakes, now
all ruffled with a dark mountain-squall, which
ended in a loud peal of thunder, echoed all
around by numberless echoes. We had been
wishing to hear a thunder-storm among the
mountains, and we were gratified now, but we
had not wished for the thorough wetting it
brought us; however, we must take the good
and bad as they come, and bear the last for
the first.
The storm was brief, but most grand, and
the torrents of rain so speedily swelled the
river, that we had to lengthen our ride over
Beaufort Bridge, and the long gallop round
saved us all from colds. Good and bad again.
THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL. 12.9
CHAPTER XIII.
THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL OF KILLARNEY.
Any one who has visited Killarney, will re-
member that numbers of peasant girls endeavour
to earn a livelihood, during the summer and
autumn months, by selling to the tourists that
visit the lakes, the wild fruits of the woods,
the wild strawberry, the hurts or wor tie -berry,
and the hazel-nut, with goats' milk and potheen
or " mountain dew.'1
At the several stations on the lakes where
strangers have to disembark from their boats,
groups of these mountaineers are to be met, all
hours of the long summer day.
On a very lovely July forenoon, a party of
these strawberry girls awaited the arrival of
tourists, below the Old Weir bridge ; they
were seated on rocks under the shade of the
oak-trees, which in this spot are of large growth,
and some were knitting industriously, whilst the
greater number sat idly talking and laughing ;
G 5
130 THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL
all were provided with plates filled with wild
strawberries, and with small wooden vessels in
which was goats'' milk.
A little apart from the rest, a very young girl
was seated on a fallen tree ; she seemed to have
numbered scarcely twelve years, and as she
diligently plied her knitting needles, she hummed
in a low sweet tone an old Irish air.
She was very pretty, with a face to be Jong
remembered — large full brown eyes, and dark
lashes, rosy cheeks, and rosy lips, with a small
mouth and white teeth, and a countenance ex-
pressive of goodness, tenderness, intellect, and
a cheerful disposition.
Beside her was her milk-vessel, covered by a
plate of wild strawberries, tastefully arranged
among the shining leaves of the arbutus. The pea-
sant girls crowded to the landing-place, all except
this little girl who timidly kept back, and each
one presented her fruit and milk for sale.
A young lady and gentleman of the party
who had just landed, had come to Killarney to
pass their honeymoon, observing her look, ad-
vanced towards her, and asked her why she did
not offer her fruit like the rest.
u,Tis her first day here, ma'am, and she's
strange,1' put in another of the strawberry girls ;
" 'twill be charity to buy from her, for luck-sake
OF KILLARNEY. 131
even, and the sick father trusting to her." And
as she spoke, she gave her an encouraging push
forward, till blushing brightly, the child held
up her plate of strawberries.
" They look very nice, and are so tastefully
arranged," said the lady smiling ; " if fresh, we
will buy them," and she took off her arm a small
bag of blue velvet beautifully worked in silver
beads, and drew out from it a well-filled purse,
which glittered in the sunbeams.
" Oh ! then to be sure they are fresh," said
the friend ; "what else would they be ?"
"Are they freshly picked, little girl?" asked
the gentleman, noticing her hesitation.
" I picked them yesterday morning, sir," fal-
tered she.
" And the goats' milk, that is fresh I am cer-
tain," said the lady kindly, still holding the
tempting purse in her hand.
" 'Tis not from the goat at all, at all, ma'am,"
replied the girl encouraged by the kind tone ; " 'tis
cow's milk a neighbour gave us."
"'Twas her own share I'll engage," observed
the other girl ; " she did not keep it from her
father or brother."
" What is your name, my good honest little
girl ?" asked the lady.
" Mary MacCarthy, ma'am," said she, look-
132 THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL
ing up into the kind eyes that were gazing on
her.
The gentleman took the strawberries, and
his wife placed five shillings in Mary's little hand.
" Buy what you like with this, my good girl,"
said she, " and remember they are not the price
of your strawberries, but a trifling reward for
your priceless honesty.'"'
Mary burst into tears, she had never possessed
so much money before, and the lady, moved by
this display of feeling, questioned her friend
about her story, who, on the way to their boat,
narrated, with unbounded good-nature, her simple
story.
There was nothing new in this, or worth
repeating ; her parents had been better off, but
sank from misfortune to misfortune until they
ended in direct poverty.
The mother, fortunately for her, was soon
removed by death, and the family consisted of
an ailing and almost helpless father, an idiot
boy, and poor little Mary, who was the only
mother of the one, and the only servant of the
other, and who sold wild strawberries to assist
the kindness of the neighbours in keeping all
three.
Oh ! how happy was Mary that day ! but
she would show her kind benefactress how grate-
OF KILLARNEY. 133
ful she was, so, leaving her companions, she crossed
the Old Weir bridge, determined to gather some
fresh strawberries.
A short time refilled her plate, and she hastened
on with it towards the station at the Eagle's Nest,
to wait there the return of the boat.
Something very glittering catches her eye
near the top of the rock, she goes towards it,
and there, lying near a bush of heath, is the
beautiful bag she had seen in her benefactress's
hand. Mary took it up ; never before had she
seen anything so lovely, and it was heavy, for
the purse within was well filled.
The boat at length came round from the Upper
Lake, and Mary stood timidly, until the lady
noticed her, when she restored the lost bag, and
offered her strawberries, and then gladly hastened
away from the admiring strangers.
Next morning Mary went to Finn's Hotel in
Killarney, to which she had been summoned,
and returned to her lonely cabin with several
useful gifts from the generous strangers.
" I valued that bag, Mary," said her new
friend to her at parting ; " it was worked for
me by a beloved sister, and you see the letters
of my name are on it, A. F. — Annie Fairfax. To
prove to you how much I value your honesty,
I will leave it with you as a remembrance of me,
134 THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL
and when I return to my home in Devonshire
I will tell my sister your story, and she will
work me another bag." And the tourists went
on their way of pleasure, and from that day
forward, the wild-strawberry girl was called by
no other name than Mauragh Mocaunta, or Honest
Mary.
Four summers went by, and Mary MacCarthy
had unceasingly continued to work early and late
for her infirm father; during the summer and
autumn months she was occasionally to be seen
at her old stations at the Old Weir bridge,
or at the Eagle's Nest, but never without her
knitting ; and in the winter and spring, she
toiled for hours each day, as helper to a neigh-
bouring farmer's wife, and her scanty earnings
were well husbanded. She had early learned
prudence, and in the improved look of the hum-
ble cabin could be seen the good effects of her
thrifty management, and honest Mary grew up
to be a young woman loved and respected by
all who knew her.
A stag-hunt on the lakes of Killarney has been
for many years an object of great attraction to
strangers. The red deer abound in the woods
round the lakes; they are a very beautiful animal,
and when hunted, are generally fortunate enough
to escape serious injury from the hounds.
OF KILLARNEY. 135
In order to baffle their pursuers, or to refresh
themselves, they often " take the Sorgle," and
are captured by the crew of some boat, care-
fully taken into it, and set at liberty at a dis-
tance from the place they were found in.
A cloudless September day ushered in a stag-
hunt the very month Mary completed her six-
teenth year. Some kind friends from Colghereen
had prevailed on her to come with them to see
it ; her cousin Nelly, the same generous girl
whom we have above called her friend, had
taken charge of her father for that day, and
Mary, with a gay heart, joined the party ; but
amid her gaiety, her duties were not forgotten,
for she carried on her arm a basket of ripe
hazel-nuts, very prettily arranged among the
beautiful silvery moss which grows luxuriantly
in swampy places.
The public announcement of the stag-hunt had
appointed Benson s Point as the place of meeting.
And as Mary sat with her friends, awaiting the
commencement of the hunt, under the trees near
the landing-place to CTSullivan's Cascade, many
admiring eyes were fixed upon her. Her dress,
though of the very coarsest materials, was put on
with care and even taste ; her gown of dark
brown camlet set off to advantage her tall slight
figure ; a showy cotton handkerchief was modestly
136 THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL
crossed od her bosom, a snow-white apron com-
pleted her costume, for the comfortable dark
blue cloth cloak which hung on her shoulders,
and which she seemed so careful of, had only
been lent to her for the day ; her dark hair
was drawn smoothly back, and coquettishly fas-
tened at the back of her small head with a
coloured wire-comb.
OF KILLARNEY. 137
CHAPTER XIV.
THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL OF KILLARNEY, CONTINUED.
A strange boat came now to the rude quay,
and from it jumped on shore four sailors, who had
come, it was said, all the way from the Cove of
Cork, (now loyally Queenstown), to row a match
against a Killarney boat and crew.
The sailors walked by the party Mary was
with, and one of them observing her beautiful
face, stopped to gaze, and seeing her basket of
nuts, advanced towards her and begged to know
if he might purchase some.
He was a fine young man, with a gay honest
countenance, and as he broke the nuts, he lingered
by Mary, and entered into conversation with her
friends ; one of them soon discovered in him the
son of a cousin who had left Killarney many years
before, and had married a Cork ship-wright, and
he quickly found himself looked on as an old
acquaintance.
With this new companion, the stag-hunt and
138 THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL
the boat-race which followed were doubly en-
joyed by poor Mary ; and then the boats moved
to " sweet Innisfallen," where the old abbey walls
rang to the sounds of merriment from many a
joyous group dining within and without its ancient
enclosures.
As happy as any of the great or gay were Mary
MacCarthy and her friends, with their new ac-
quaintance Charles Kavanagh, who seated near a
bright peat-fire in a shady nook, by one of those
exquisite bays with which Innisfallen is indented,
partook amidst laughter and jest of their homely
yet plentiful fare.
Long did they linger over their meal, listening
with delighted attention to his accounts of the
wonders he had seen, and of his almost miraculous
escapes from shipwrecks, told with the genuine
enthusiasm of a sailor.
The cloudless moon was high in the heavens
that night before " sweet Innisfallen,1 was de-
serted; and Mary's humble home was changed
in her dreams to a wondrous ship, in which
Charles Kavanagh told her of marvellous tales of
brave sailors.
It was on a lovely evening late in autumn in
the year following this stag-hunt, Mary was seated
at her cabin- door, diligently peeling rushes for
winter-lights.
OF KILLARNEY. 139
The setting sun shed its glorious beams on the
lovely scene before her, gilding the placid lakes,
and tinging all the beauteous landscape with a
golden light.
Near her cabin a group of hardy hollies with
their coral berries glittered in the sunshine, and
birds were chirping gaily among the shelter of
their branches ; the sound of life from the village
below came up softened by the distance, and
Mary sighed gently, for she felt herself alone.
Charles Kavanagh had loitered in Killarney
during the last autumn, and before he went away
had declared himself her lover ; the long winter
had passed, and the cheerful spring and summer
come again and gone, and he had not returned.
But Mary had hidden her sorrow in her own
bosom, and continued unchanged her life of use-
fulness ; still she never visited her old stations on
the lakes, though she sometimes sold wild straw-
berries and goats' milk to strangers ascending
Manger ton.
Mary now pauses in her employment to gaze
on a figure rapidly advancing towards her, and
her hand is not withdrawn from Charles Kavanagh's
affectionate pressure.
" Oh ! it seems a long, long time since I have
seen you, Mary darling,11 said he, i6 and in all
I have gone through, I have longed for this hour.1'
140 THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL
M 'Tis a'most twelve months," replied Mary,
smiling through the tears which rilled her eyes.
" And did you think I had forgotten you,
Mary ? " asked Charles, sadly ; "and don't you
love me after all ? "
" Oh ! yes, yes, indeed I do, and well,*'1 sobbed
Mary, and she rubbed her hand across her eyes,
and looked up in her lover's face with a happy
smile.
" God bless you for that word, Mary dear,"
exclaimed Charles, " and I did not forget you
for one hour. It was to make money for you
I took service on board a merchant-ship bound
from Cork to Lisbon, and I took a bad fever
there, and when I recovered from it I was so
weak I could not return home for some time. But
now, Mary, my heart's love, I am come to you
with my mother's blessing, and I '11 take you
back with me, please God, and I'll be a fond
husband to you. I 've a promise of certain em-
ployment in Cork Harbour, and indeed I'll try
to make you happy."
Mary hung her head, and tears trickled down
her cheeks.
" My mother is a kind good woman," continued
Charles, " and my little sister, a quiet merry
child, and they '11 both be very fond of you ; and
we have such a snug little cottage with a pretty
OF KILLARNEY. 141
garden on the hill-side near Cove, and below you '11
see the beautiful sea, with all the ships from distant
countries — and we II be very happy, Mary."
Poor Mary wept convulsively for a short time,
and then she seemed to make a great effort as
she spoke.
" 'Tis you are kind and good to me, Charlie
machree," said she, " and I 'd want no com-
forts to make me happy as your wife. I 'd work
cheerfully early and late for you, for I 'in used
to the hard life ; but do you think I 'd leave
my poor old father, and poor Willie for all the
world, and they having no one to look up to but
me ? I 'd ill deserve your love, Charlie, if I did
— Oh ! no, no, while God gives me health and
strength I '11 work for them, and try to keep
cold poverty from them. And every day I'll
pray for you, Charlie, and love you, and wish
you to be happy," and a gush of tears spoke the
truth of the feelings of her full young heart.
Charles Kavanagh, as he wiped a tear from
his eye, said in a tremulous tone, " Mary, my
darling, were I alone I 'd come and live here,
and labour willingly for you, but you know I
too have a parent looking up to me, and I can't
leave her. We must strive to hope for better
days, and if ever you want a friend, Mary, think
of me — God bless you, for you deserve to be
142 THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL
happy ," and he was gone swiftly clown the moun-
tain side.
The beautiful sun had sunk behind the lofty
mountains, the lakes looked dark, a gloom had
settled on the exquisite landscape, and poor Mary
looked up, and she was alone.
And now it was that this virtuous girl, this
true model of filial piety found the reality of her
self-sacrifice, and hers was indeed the meritorious
self-sacrifice ! Her love for her poor infirm father
was earnest and devoted and self-denying, and
she never hesitated to sacrifice to it her love
for Charles Kavanagh.
The nobleness of her sorely-tried heart came
forth in the struggle, she hid within her own
breast the anxiety of her new love, and she
patiently toiled on through her life of poverty.
Years went by with little variation in Mary's
life, her brother had died after weary months
of painful illness, and her father had become
more requiring, more feeble, and more querulous.
Every summer brought back Charles Kavanagh,
faithful to his attachment, and every meeting of
theirs found Mary steadfast in her love for him,
but steadfast still in her purpose of remaining with
her afflicted father.
But happy years came to " honest Mary " at
last, and the very bag which had proved her
OF KILLARNEY. 143
honesty as a child, brought about the reward
of it in her matured years.
One day in early summer she left her cabin
to carry some hanks of woollen thread to a far-
mer's wife, who lived near Lough Kittane, and
who employed her occasionally in spinning and
knitting, for Mary was so poor as to receive with
gratitude the small sum of money she had earned
by her industry ; returning home she was met
by a party of gentlemen on a fishing excursion
to the mountain lakes.
One amongst them asked if she could give him
some thread to mend part of his fishing-tackle,
and Mary's replying that she would get it for
him at her cabin, he and his companions followed
her thither for it.
On a shelf, holding a few plates and bowls,
Mary kept a small box, which contained, besides
her needles, thread, and tapes, &c, the very
bag given to her years before by the English
lady, carefully enclosed in paper, and looked on
by "honest Mary" as something too precious
to be often seen.
She stretched up her hand to take down the
box, to give the stranger some thread, and
perhaps being ruled by that irresistible fate
which attends on all, the box slipped from her
hands, and the contents were scattered over
144 THE WILD-STRAWBERRY GIRL
the floor. The precious bag lay glittering among
the threads and tapes.
One of the strangers picked it up, to restore
it to Mary, and looking intently at it exclaimed
" A. F." " Can this be the bag my sister Annie
so often told us of? "
It was the identical bag, and the good na-
tured brother's letter that evening to Mrs. Fairfax,
renewed in her kind heart the warmest sympathy
for her old acquaintance, honest Mary.
The sequel need scarcely be told — Mary was
soon married to Charles Kavanagh, in the lowly
cabin she had for so many years consecrated by
her filial piety.
Some thriving hollies alone mark the spot
near which that cabin stood, for Mr. and Mrs.
Fairfax enabled Mary to remove her old father
to her new home, near the Cove of Cork, and
the invigorating sea-air, and good food, soon
restored much of his health.
And Mary was happy, as happy as she de-
served to be, and that is saying a great deal.
On a fine day, some years since, you may
have seen an old man seated in a comfortable
straw-chair, outside a pretty cottage near Cove,
and flowers blooming around him. He was
rarely alone, for there were young children
OF KILLARNEY. 145
playing in the garden, or what he loved even
better still, seated near him a handsome woman
in the prime of life, working industriously as of
old, whose cheery happy voice lights up his face
with smiles, for she is the " wild-strawberry
girl," his own darling Mauragh Mocanta.
146 MR. O'CONNELL IN KILLARNEY.
CHAPTER XV.
MR. O'CONNELL'S TRIUMPHANT ENTRY INTO KILLARNEY. — CHURCH
OF KILLEEGY. — ENTHUSIASTIC RECEPTION OF MR. o'cONNELL
IN KILLARNEY. LAKES OF CARRA. AL FRESCO DINNER.
LORD HEADLEY'S IMPROVEMENTS. THE PARSON AND THE
PRIEST. THE ROAD TO CAHIRCIVEEN. BIRTHPLACE OF MR.
O'CONNELL. ANCIENT BATTLE-AXES FOUND. BALLYCARBERY
CASTLE. DOWLAS HEAD CAVE. VALENCIA ISLAND. VA-
LENCIA HARBOUR. THE SKELLIG ISLANDS. VILLAGE OF
WATERVILLE. LAKE OF CURRANE. — WILD SCENERY NEAR
WATERVILLE. HARE-HUNT.
Yesterday, Killarney was from early morning
literally a deserted village, for the whole populace
had gone forth to meet Mr. O'Connell, fo whom
a triumphal entry had been prepared, and flags
were waving from really pretty arches of ever-
greens and flowers all along the streets ; we were
assured he could not be in Killarney before four
o'clock.
So en attendant we set out for a walk in search
of the picturesque. Taking the Muckross road
we ascend a hill near the town euphoniously called
Violet Hill, from which we had a very sweet
RECEPTION OF MR. O'CONNELL. 147
view ; farther on we turned into the demesne of
Cahirnane, very finely wooded, and with fine
quarries of good grey marble. Loitering on the
road, we came to the ruined church of Killeegy,
commanding an exquisite view of mountain
and lake and lowland. Near the ruin are the
commenced walls of another church, rising about
a foot above the foundations, and this was designed
some years since by the proprietor as a chapel
of ease for the Protestants of the neighbourhood ;
however his zeal did not take him too far, though
some laudatory verses on his pious undertaking
were written by a religious lady living near. Cer-
tainly a more beautiful spot could scarcely be
found on which to raise a place of worship.
It was quite dusk when Mr. O'Connell entered
Killarney, and the long procession with torches,
banners fluttering, and wands with streaming rib-
bons waving among wands topped with flowers
and evergTeens, had a singularly pretty effect,
and then the wild enthusiasm of the people, wel-
coming back their aged countryman !
Mr. CTConnell himself was in high spirits, and
during the hour we sat with him talked with
almost boyish ardour of his expected enjoyment
of the delights of Darrynane. We readily accept-
ed his invitation to join him there.
As we drove through Killarney, by the bright
H 2
148 LORD headley's improvements.
light of numberless tar-barrels, now gleaming on
many broken windows and neglected houses, now
on the rags of the multitude, I felt I could not
think highly of the paternal landlordism of the
noble proprietor of the town, set as it is in the
loveliest of nature's scenery, disgraced by man's
neglect.
Bidding adieu for a time to Killarney, we came
by the village of Killorglin, and through a bleak
country to Wales's little rural hotel, in Glanbegh,
near the Lakes of Carra, and here some of our
party determined to abide three days, enjoying
the perfection of salmon and trout fishing.
Scrambling up the rugged mountains, we had
grand sea-views, and vistas of dark lakes ; one
among them, Coomasoharene, struck me as very
fine. The lower shore of Carra Lake is unin-
teresting, but our boat soon brought us to really
beautiful scenery, the Upper Lake being bounded
by the magnificent rocks. We had an al fresco
dinner near a farmer's house, of some oP the
excellent trout from the lake, and an ample supply
of potatoes, butter, and milk.
Near this we were shown the remains of some
iron-works.
Our inn is in the midst of the late Lord
Headley's improvements, and he frequently visited
them, and by a kindly judicious interest in his
BIRTH-PLACE OF MR. C-'CONNELL. 149
tenants' prosperity improved their condition very
much. He built some lodges on the sea-
shore, which are frequented during the bathing
season.
In this remote spot there is a parson and a
priest, the former reads his service in a room set
apart for it, to five or six persons, and the
latter has immense congregations at two mountain
chapels, seven miles of mountain road dividing
them, and he gives alternately an early morning
and a forenoon service in each, no weather pre-
venting his attendance.
The road on to Cahirciveen is very good, part
of the way overhanging the sea along Drung Hill,
with fine mountains opposite. Over Drung are
three roads ; the first and oldest at the very
summit, for our ancestors loved short cuts; the
second, midway the mountain ; and the third and
present one, in its grand elevation, too, marking
the march of improvement ; and by the sea-shore
below, the Waterford and Valencia Railway is
to run. Nothing seems now-a-days impossible to
enterprising man.
jA. little distance from the town of Cahirciveen,
we stopped to visit the old house of Carhen,
now in ruins, in which Daniel CTConnell was
born, August 6th 1775.
Here some years ago were dug up some very
150 DOWLAS HEAD CAVE.
ancient battle-axes, said to be of Carthaginian
brass : they are preserved at Darrynane.
Cahirciveen is a lively-looking town ; the arm
of the sea running up to it is quite enclosed by
mountains, and has all the appearance of a lake ;
it is mostly built on college land held on lease
by Mr. CTConnell.
The morning after our arrival we took a boat,
and coming down the river we landed first near
the ruins of BalJycarbery Castle, an ancient strong-
hold of the CTConnell family, which was at one
time possessed by two brothers who not being
on speaking terms, the brother who held pos-
session of the lower parts of the castle refused
to allow anything to pass up to his brother
above, who fortunately was supplied with every
necessary but water. I suppose the Kerry skies
were not so pluvious in those days as they are
now, for the tale tells, that, during the progress
of this internecine war, the higher powers had
to use wine in all their cookery.
Near this castle, are the remains of a curious
old stone-fort, called Cahir-gall.
At Dowlas Head we came to a magnificent
cave ; the entrance is low, but the interior lofty,
and glittering in crystals ; the echo, which we
tried in all variety of cadences, very fine.
From this we crossed to Valencia Island,
THE SKELLIG ISLANDS. 151
which is about five miles long, with an average
breadth of two miles. Oliver Cromwell had
forts built on this island, the remains of which
are still visible. The slate-quarries here are
most extensively worked, and are much used for
even billiard-tables, some of the flags raised
being large and of fine quality.
The harbour of Valencia, which may be en-
tered on either side, is safe, and has deep water.
Whether the various discussions about its capa-
bilities as an American packet-station will end
to its advantage it is hard to say ; certainly it
has the merit of being the nearest port to America,
and clear of all channel fogs, and therefore
some hours might be saved : a serious con-
sideration in these go-a-head days.
The Skellig Islands next attracted our atten-
tion, but their distance from shore of eight
miles was too far in the now rough sea to tempt
even our adventurous spirits.
The Skelligs are three in number ; the largest
is a lofty mass of rock, rising 1500 feet above
water-mark, erroneously stated to be composed
of red marble; it is a clay slate formation with
veinings of brown quartz.
There are, I was told, signs of early culti-
vation on it, and several families now live there
and have about three acres of land under cul-
152 VILLAGE OF WATERVILLE.
tivation. In 1826, a light-house was established
here.
In ancient days, these islands were selected
as places of religious seclusion, and the remains
of seven cells built in stone-arches without
mortar, are still shown. There are two wells
of excellent spring-water, which with the cells
were dedicated to St. Michael.
The Skellig monastery was a cell or adjunct
to that of St. Michael's at Ballinskelligs. The
old verse
" The stout Amhergen was in battle slain,
He lost his life upon the western main,
Skellig's high cliffs the hero's bones contain,"
show that these islands were known in very
ancient times. On the end of a narrow ledge
of rock overhanging the sea, is a stone-cross,
firmly placed there, and the wonder to those
who have seen it is, how it could have been fixed
there ; but there are marvels in bye-gone days,
as well as in our own more enlightened times.
From Cahirciveen to the village of Waterville,
there is an excellent road, the distance about
twelve miles. Ballinskelligs bay flows in on the
right side, on a smooth sandy beach, where
races are annually held. A very fine chain of
mountains appear beyond Waterville, and as
WILD SCENERY. 153
we cross the river Inney, we are shown where
stood a curious stone- bridge for foot-passengers,
twenty feet across, and a yard thick, and called
the Irish Rialto, by Smith the historian of
Kerry.
The village, our resting place for two days,
has two very country inns, but a traveller in-
tending to be fastidious had better not leave
the comforts of home.
The lake here of Currane, or Tarmias, is
beautifully situated, a short distance above the
sea, into which flows from it a river, remark-
able, as is the lake, for excellent salmon, and
a peculiarly fine trout.
After some fishing on the lake, and a visitr
to its island, which contains the ruins of a
church and burial-ground, and flourishing arbu-
tus, we landed, and mounting our ponies, we
had a delightful ride among the Glenear moun-
tains, coming on two lakes, Enniannah and
Derrianah. What hidden beauties lie often
near us, and we no wiser !
Many tourists in the fishing season visit
Waterville, but few explore the wild scenery
around it.
This day on our return to our inn, we came
upon Mr. Butlers fine pack of beagles in full
cry after a hare, and despite sundry inklings
H 5
154 HARE-HUNT.
of humanity, that our tried ponies had had
quite enough work for one day, we scrambled with
them over the " stone gap," that is, a gap filled
up with stones, and away we went after the
hunt over " brake, bush and scaur,''1 and by
some unsportsman-like short cuts came in at
" the death."
THE ROMANCE OF A DAY. 155
CHAPTER XVI.
THE ROMANCE OF A DAY. THE HAPPY FAMILY.
The beautiful harvest-moon was shining as
brightly and beautifully as the moon can shine
on a calm, clear night in autumn, shedding its
silvery softness over the valley of Rossaran, and
a lovelier scene it never shone on ; at least so
thought Edmond CVReilly, who was returning that
evening to a very happy home after several years"'
absence, spent amid the dangers of war with his
regiment on foreign service.
He was an outside passenger on the mail-
coach, and he had been for some time eagerly
watching for the view of that valley, and when
the road, winding round a hill, disclosed it to his
gaze, he turned to his fellow-traveller for the
last three days, and, pointing to the scene before
them, enthusiastically exclaimed,
" This is my own, my native land."
" And truly you may well be proud of it,
156 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
O'Reilly," replied the gentleman addressed, "for
a fairer scene I never beheld ; and though I am
advanced in years, how freshly I can still re-
member a return to my home in my happy boy-
hood."
" Yon must make my home now your resting
place, my dear Lushington," said Edmond, in
a kind, friendly tone ; " you will like my family,
I am sure, and you must try," added he, gaily,
"to civilize us a little; for in this remote, this
happy valley, we are genuine ' natives,1 far behind
your world of southern England in civilization ;
there is no knowing what wonders an enlightened,
well-disposed Englishman might be able to
effect."
" To-morrow I will make the acquaintance of
your happy family circle, with the greatest plea-
sure," answered Mr. Lushington.
" And when you see the view from our draw-
ing-room window," said Edmond, " you will own
that you have never seen it excelled.11
" Consider how much the view within adds
to the beauty of the view outside," exclaimed
Mr. Lushington.
"Ah! that I do," said Edmond; "and I
feel that if that bouse,1' pointing to a plain farm-
house by the road side, " had been my home,
I would love it, and probably admire it too ; "
THE HAPPY FAMILY. 157
and there was a full sense of " sweet home," in
the acknowledgment.
The coach rolled on over a smooth road, and
Edmond, looking from side to side, remarked with
pleasure, how many improvements a few years
had made around the town of Rossaran ; here
were thriving plantations, where there had been
swamps — here fields of ripe corn, where he had
often found a fox in a thick furze brake — and
here snug, slated houses, with well-fenced gardens,
luxuries undreamed of in his boyhood ; he had
been absent ten years.; but the main points of
beauty in that sweet valley were unchanged and
unchangeable.
The town of Rossaran was a straggling, pic-
turesque-looking town, extending along the banks
of a mountain-lake, and by the sides of a rapid
river which issued from it, and formed several
cascades before it fell into a bay of the Atlantic
Ocean, which flowed on a pebbly beach just
below the town.
At the north of the valley were ranges of hills
varying in height, and cultivated to the top,
while to the east and south was a chain of moun-
tains beautifully and variously shaped.
Overhanging the lake was a steep mountain,
clothed to its very summit with luxuriant woods,
and next to this, as if to please from the very
158 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
contrast, was a rugged, barren mountain, with
bare, dark crags showing amid the coarse grass
and heather ; between these mountains was a
deep ravine, through which tumbled, from rock
to rock, a brawling river into the lake below,
and by its side grew, and throve surprisingly,
from out the very rocks, the arbutus, the moun-
tain-ash, and the dark-leaved holly.
Edmond sprang from the coach as it drew up
at the principal hotel in Rossaran, and cordially
shaking his friend's hand, he hurried off to his
happy home, where many a joyous welcome
awaited the wanderer's return.
His parents had gone through life prosperously
and happily — happy in each other's tender love,
blessed with an amiable family, and fortunate
in worldly circumstances. They were now ad-
vanced in years, but time had visited them
kindly, and left few traces of his passage on
their handsome, placid countenances.
Edmond's absence abroad alone weighed on
their spirits, but from year to year they had
looked sanguinely for his return, and the dangers
he had passed they knew not of until assured
of his safety. He had ever been the especial
darling of his parents — as a child the most en-
dearing, as a growing boy the noblest — with all
the fine qualities of a well-guided youth, and now
THE HAPPY FAMILY. 159
he comes back unspoiled by the world, with
every blessed feeling of home fresh upon him,
and, oh ! how the mother longed to clasp him
once more in her arms.
A pleasant group to look upon they were this
evening in their cheerful sitting-room at Rossaran
Lodge ; a peat-fire burned brightly in the large,
old-fashioned fire-place, and by it the mother sat
knitting, but her work was often laid aside, and a
walk taken to the hall door ; for though Edmnod
had not named the day of his return, a mother's
heart expected him, and soon he is with her, and
oh ! the deep joy of that meeting.
What a change ten years make in a family ;
the eldest son, Charles, whom "Edmond had left
a lad of eighteen, was married, and living near
Rossaran; and his sisters had grown from child-
hood into womanhood, and Master Richard, " the
baby," was a stout manly boy.
" Why these girls cannot be little Annie and
Emily !" exclaimed Edmond, gazing fondly on
his sisters, his warm heart brimful of happiness.
" And two better girls never blessed an old
man's heart,"" said their father.
Though not "regular beauties" they were
two most fascinating girls. Annie was tall and
beautifully formed, had large soft dark eyes, and
a quantity of raven hair, always drawn back in
160 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
the simplest manner, teeth like pearls, and the
sweetest smile in the world, and better than all,
she was a true warm-hearted girl, totally forget-
ful of self.
Emily could not be considered plain with her
intelligent beaming face, and such speaking grey
eyes ; and who ever loved her family or her friends
so devotedly as she did ? She wrote poetry, and
exquisite little tales true to life ; and, though she
stoutly denied it, she was romantic. They were
girls formed to be happy, and hitherto they had
been completely so.
How much was said that night by the re-united
family, can well be imagined, and how delightfully
all met at the cheerful breakfast-table next morn-
ing need not be described.
Edmond had been *to Rossaran before it, and
returned with Mr. Lushington, who was cordially
welcomed by the family, and soon found all his
English prejudices against Ireland and the Irish
dispelled.
A lovely autumnal day induced a long ramble
after breakfast, Edmond had so many improve-
ments to see ; there was the new rustic bridge, and
the moss-house ; there was Annie's favourite walk,
and Emily's garden.
Rossaran Lodge was situated on a rising ground
which sloped down to the edge of the lake, and
THE HAPPY FAMILY. 161
was about half a mile from the town. It was
surrounded by a beautiful though not extensive
demesne ; at one side was the wooded mountain,
now rich in the varied tints of autumn ; away
across the lake were the other mountains so mag-
nificent in their lights and shadows below, the
pretty town with its old abbey and cathedral, and
beyond the deep blue sea.
That was a merry walk. Mr. Lushington had
got Emily into an animated discussion on Irish
history, one of her favourite studies, and Annie
was giving Edmond some interesting details of
their old acquaintances.
" So you tell me, Annie," said he, " that pretty
Mary Sherwood still remembers me, and used to
ask about me."
" She recollects you well," replied Annie, " and
I have often in joke called her sister ; she is such
a dear girl."
U But, dear Annie, there are two ways of
making her a sister, eh!" exclaimed Edward,
gaily. " Mary was a mere child when I left
home, and exquisitely pretty ; she had a brother,
I remember, a tall handsome lad, with red hair."
M Not red hair," interrupted Annie, " fair
hair."
" Oh, ha, ha ! " laughed Edmond ; " fair hair !
His name was Wilfrid Sherwood, and he used to
162 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
gather all kinds of shells for you, and ride the old
Shetland pony on the lawn here with you."
" No, indeed, not with me, it was with Emily,'1
said Annie, and turning an angle in the avenue,
they met the identical Mary and Wilfrid Sher-
wood, and that old acquaintance was cordially
renewed by Edmond.
The Sherwoods were the great people of Ross-
aran. Mr. Sherwood, the father, was the sole
agent to the rich Earl of Rossaran, and he was a
rare anomaly in poor Ireland, a kind, good-hearted
agent, and he and his family were beloved and
respected.
An old friendship subsisted between the Sher-
woods and O'Reillys, and friends said it was
likely to be strengthened by a marriage. The
Sherwoods spent that day, and many more at
Rossaran Lodge, and if Mary thought that the
playfellow of her childhood had grown into the
handsomest and most delightful man she had ever
met, she was not singular in the belief.
A month had quickly passed away in the hap-
piest home-enjoyments; there were riding and
boating parties in the mornings, and every night
cheerful reunions when the merry dance and song
made the hours go swiftly by.
Edmond was the gayest of the gay, his return
had brought new life to that quiet neighbourhood,
THE HAPPY FAMILY. 163
and very long this gay time was remembered
there.
With all his gaiety Edmond often found time
for acts of charity ; one little act of his was told
me ; when a boy he had had a careful attendant,
who had watched and often shielded him from
danger ; bad health prevented the poor man from
any longer supporting himself by work, and he
had removed from Rossaran, to drag out a miser-
able existence with some of his wife's relations.
Edmond found leisure in the midst of his happi-
ness to pay his poor old servant many a com-
forting visit ; he had a small house built for him,
at his own expense, near Rossaran Lodge, and
when the kind benefactor was gone to his last
resting-place, the old man lived there in renewed
health and memory of him !
164 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE ROMANCE OF A DAY. THE HAPPY FAMILY, CONTINUED.
After a fortnight's visit, Mr. Lushington had
left his hospitable friends, but returned to them
to say " good bye " as he said, and the day
after his return they had a boating party on the
lake.
At this very party Edmond proposed that they
should get up a regatta in the bay, and his pro-
posal was gladly seconded by all his acquaintances.
They fixed to have rowing matches and sailing
matches, a grand dejeuner on board Charles
CTReilly's yacht, and a ball in the evening at
Rossaran Lodge, to which " every one was to be
asked," so Emily decided, and she looked to it
eagerly as her debut in the gay world, and felt the
pleasures of hope in all their fulness during the
fortnight that intervened before the wished-for day
came.
And come it did at last, and as bright and
beautiful a day as if it brought unalloyed joy to
THE HAPPY FAMILY. 165
that happy home ; it shone forth a morning of
complete bliss to end a day of agonising sorrow.
Annie, Emily, and Mary Sherwood took an early
ramble in the garden, and came into the breakfast-
room as blooming as the flowers they held in their
hands.
Edmond made a whispered request to Mary as
she took her place at table, and with a blush she
took from her bouquet a sprig of myrtle, a rose
bud, and a carnation, and gave them to him.
" Remember the ball to-night, Mary," said
Emily, archly ; " you were so anxious to have a
bouquet for it."
" 1 11 keep these precious flowers for your dear
sake to the day of my death,1' said Edmond in a
low tone, and he placed them in his button-hole,
and pinned them in carefully.
Breakfast proceeded with great gaiety.
" I am afraid you are not well, dear mother,"
said Edmond, perceiving her untasted meal.
" I am quite well, my darling," replied she,
fondly taking his hand ; "I feel no appetite, for
whenever I dozed last night I had such fearful
dreams that I passed a very restless night."
" Well the fresh breezes, will do you a world of
good, by and by, mother," said Edmond ; " and
remember that you must come to my regatta. I
shall consider it a mark of disrespect to me if you
166 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
do not ; and confess that you would feel lonesome
all the long- day without seeing me."
The fond mother smiled, but an unbidden tear
trembled in her eye — what business had it there
amid so much happiness !
Among the friends around the hospitable table
was an old navy captain, who remarked that the
bay was very squally.
" Anything like a stiff breeze ensures our boat's
winning easily," said Charles O'Reilly ; " but,
Edmond, you will think nothing of our little
breakers after all the storms you have been in. I
think,1"' added he, " we had best lose no time in
going down to the bay, the ladies will join us on
board my yacht at one o'clock," and the gentle-
men hurried off.
Mary Sherwood was alone in the drawing-room
an hour afterwards when Edmond suddenly en-
tered it.
" You look surprised to see me, Mary," said
he, seating himself near her ; " but the truth is I
felt an irresistible impulse to return here, for,
dearest Mary," added he, softly, " I have a little
secret I long to tell you, — perhaps you have
guessed it already — at least I have hoped so. It
is that I love you, devotedly, and unalterably,"
and he took her hand. " You are not displeased,
Mary, at this avowal ?" continued he, for he saw
THE HAPPY FAMILY. 167
her colour rise and tears tremble under her dark
eye-lashes.
" Oh, no, no, Edmond," answered she, " you
have made me very happy."
" To do so, sweetest Mary, during our lives will
be my first thought," said Edmond.
Some one opened the door. It was his mother,
she gave him a pleased happy smile.
" I only came for my keys. I thought you
were at the bay, my darling," said Mrs. O'Reilly.
" Yes, I was mother, but," he looked round,
Mary was gone.
" I understand, dear one," replied she, " and
in every action of your life I pray God bless my
beloved boy. I wanted my keys to give old Nelly
Joyce some wine for her sick grandchild : you met
her on the road, and relieved her distress, and God
reward you, my Edmond," and the mother folded
her son in a long and last embrace.
At two o'clock that afternoon the bay of
Rossaran presented a very gay scene, — there
were yachts with their colours flying, and smaller
sail-boats of all descriptions, and innumerable
row-boats.
Charles O'Reilly's yacht, the " Shamrock," was
anchored about half a mile from the shore, and on
board it at this hour were Annie and Mary Sher-
wood, and several friends of theirs, while Emily,
168 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
who fearlessly loved the waves, was enjoying the
animated scene from a small whale-boat, in which
were her brother Charles and Wilfrid Sherwood.
One boat-race had just ended, a rowing match
of four- oared gigs between the fishermen of Ross-
aran and those of two neighbouring sea-ports,
and cheer upon cheer came lustily across the
deep, for the Rossaran boat had won in gallant
style.
And now the great race of the day was to come
off. Alas, the fatal one ! Six wherries were
preparing to start, and among them the O'Reillys''
boat, bought and rigged out by Edmond since
his return home, and called the " Mary," has
a small beautiful flag, the work of his sisters,
which floated at the helm, told those that could
read, the name. .
The first signal gun was fired for the boats to
prepare : they were to sail twice round the " Sham-
rock, " and keep within the bay.
Mrs. O'Reilly heard that shot, as she was
driving to the shore, and felt it thrill through her
whole frame.
u Oh, make haste, make haste ! " exclaimed
Mrs. Charles O'Reilly, who was in the carriage
with her, to the coachman ; " there is the first
signal ; we shall be late for the race," and he
THE HAPPY FAMILY. 169*
willingly urged on his horses, and they were in
time.
Cleaving its way right gallantly through the
waves, the "Mary" sailed close to the " Sham-
rock " for the starting point. Edmond stood with
the helm in his hand ; he wore a sailor's dress,
which showed to advantage his fine figure, and he
wore a pretty Greek cap, which he waved to Annie
and Mary, and pointed to the flowers in his jacket
with a happy smile. As he passed the boat in
which Emily and Charles were, he called to the
latter to lend him a coat, saying he felt it bitterly
cold.
Charles drew up his boat, and held on by the
" Mary," while Edmond wrapped himself in a
heavy pea-jacket.
" Where are my mother and Julia ? " inquired
Edmond. " They promised to be here in time to
see my triumph, and judge between the other
boats and the i Mary,' to see how lightly she
skims the wave."
" The large whale-boat is waiting to bring them
off to the yacht," replied Charles.
" For the sake of her name, Edmond," said
Emily, " do not let the fc Mary ' be beaten ! "
He sailed off laughing, and kissing his hand to
his sister.
" That boat carries too much sail," remarked
I
170 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
one old fisherman to another, as the " Mary*" went
by ; " she \1 want a wide berth in the turning."
The second gun is fired ; the six wherries are
off in beautiful style. The " Mary " leads ; Ed-
niond's heart is in the race. There is an angry
squall coming down the mountains. Now a
wherry gains on him — it is close to him — every
reef in the sail is unfurled — the " Mary " shoots
ahead.
Edmond looks round. There is his mother
coming off to the yacht. A loud cheer as the
" Mary " nears it ; another, she has passed it,
and, heedless of that fatal squall, Edmond urges
the boat quickly round. The breeze freshens ; a
rush of wind was heard, and a staggering blast
struck the " Mary." She reels nearly to an even
keel — rights for an instant, and reels again, turning
keel up, and all her crew are in the water.
A horrid shriek replaces the cheer of triumph
from the " Shamrock." Boats crowd round ; four
of the crew are picked up, little the worse for
their wetting; but two are missing — Edmond, and
a young sailor-boy.
Down comes Charles's boat, and, within three
oars1 length of it rises, above the waves, the
beloved Edmond ; he raises his head. Emily saw
him distinctly shake the water from his beautiful
luxuriant curls — he struggles — he raises one arm
THE HAPPY FAMILY. 171
— and, oh God ! — he sinks into the relentless
wave to rise no more !
A shriek, surpassing any ever heard, rent the
air, and the mother heard it as she came near the
yacht. She starts — what is that floating by on
the water ? It is the Greek cap of her idolised
A month of unutterable woe passes. Morning,
noon, and night, there are boats on the bay,
unavailingly seeking the body of the lost one ; and
the failure brings, every evening, fresh bitterness
to the bereavement of the afflicted family.
Six weeks after the fatal day, a little girl,
shrimp-gathering two miles beyond the shores of
Rossaran, saw a body lying in the clear green
water of a pool left by the tide. It is carefully
removed, and identified only by the clothes ; for,
alas ! the handsome features are all decomposed,
but, in the button-hole, the stems of the flowers
were found that poor Mary had given him.
More heart-rending even than the deepest grief
was the mother's frantic joy, when told that the
body of her son had been found, and she watched
unceasingly by the coffin until it was borne to its
resting-place.
Many years have rolled by, and still Edmond
O'Reilly is well remembered in Rossaran.
i 2
172 THE ROMANCE OF A DAY.
Six months after the tragedy recorded here,
Rossaran Lodge was deserted. The bereaved
family had all removed to the neighbourhood of
an inland town ; the old couple never regained
even a portion of their cheerfulness. A few years
of grief did its work, and laid them within the
same year side by side next their darling Edmond
in the old grave-yard of Rossaran.
Twelve years after this mournful event, Mr.
Lushington revisits Rossaran, and Annie and her
husband, Wilfrid, welcome him hospitably. But
he misses the joyous greetings of the gay old
times, and his light-hearted favourite, Emily,
whose grave is in a foreign land.
Time, with a chastening spirit, has worn away
the intensity of poor Mary's sorrow, and she
pursues her quiet way through a world that has
taught her so bitter a lesson of the uncertainty of
all earthly happiness, with uncomplaining sweet-
ness, and the sick, the poor, and the friendless,
find in Mary a " ministering angel."
SUPERB SEA-VIEW. 173
CHAPTER XVIII.
JOURNEY TO DARRYNANE. SUPERB SEA-VIEW. PERFECT
DRUID'S ALTAR. — SITUATION OF DARRYNANE. — SECLUSION OF
DARRYNANE. — MEET MR. o'cONNELL. LARGE MIXED DINNER
PARTY. — DESCRIPTION OF HOUSE OF DARRYNANE. — AWAKENED
TO GO HUNTING. — TWO HARES STARTED. BREAKFAST WITH
THE "LIBERATOR." ANECDOTE OF SPANISH HIDDEN TREA-
SURE.— ARRIVAL OF POST-BAGS. — HUNTING RESUMED. A FOX-
HUNT. OLD ABBEY OF DARRYNANE. — EPITAPH ON THE UNCLE
OF MR. O'CONNELL. — LETTER FROM MR. o'cONNELL, DESCRIBING
HIS MOUNTAIN-HOME.
One final exercise of our patience as anglers,
and we pack up our fishing-tackle and bid adieu
to Waterville, with pleasant anticipations of an
agreeable visit to Darrynane. Our road to it is a
very beautiful one, winding gradually round and
up mountains, and disclosing varied glimpses of
sea and mountains.
Near the summit of the mountain called
Coomakishta, we left our vehicle, and walked up
the old road which crosses the very top of the
mountain, bringing us to the most magnificent
sea-view I could even imagine.
174 SITUATION OF DARRYNANE.
Below us lay Darrynaue harbour and bay, with
several islands edged with the breakers' foam, and
beyond it the boundless Atlantic — of a deep grey
as seen from this height — with gleams of sunshine
along its bosom. Farther eastward is the entrance
to the Kenmare river, backed by the Castletown
mountains, with the Dursey, and Bull, Cow, and
Calf Islands, extending into the ocean. Turn
back and we had below us Ballinskelligs Bay,
Valencia Harbour ; beyond, Dingle Bay, and
the Blasquet Islands, making altogether a superb
prospect.
Near the summit of this mountain is a very
perfect Druid's altar. The Druid that laid the
foundation-stone of it in such a spot, must have
had an exquisite sense of the beautiful in Nature.
In Beauford's " Druidism Revived, Collect.
Hibern.1, No. 7, we read : — " It is remarkable
that all the ancient altars found in Ireland, and
now distinguished by the name of cromleachs, or
sloping-stones, were originally called Bothal, or
the house of God, and they seem to be of the
same species as those mentioned in the book
of Genesis, called by the Hebrews Bethel,
which has the same signification as the Irish
Bothal."
The situation of Darrynane is beautiful in the
LARGE MIXED DINNER PARTY. 175
extreme ; the house lies at the base of an amphi-
theatre of mountains, sheltered by thick thriving
plantations, and within a few hundred yards of
the ocean, which on stormy days sends up sheets
of foam hio-h over the rocks and sand-hills, divid-
ing a beautiful pebbly beach from the pleasure-
grounds.
To me Darrynane, in its seclusion, seemed a
sweet haven of rest to the troubled spirit of the
man who toiled and fretted through so many years
of agitated public life ; from it the world was shut
out by mountains and waters. Here, forgetting
for a brief space the noisy life the Agitator had
quitted, he might repose — the beloved head of a
most happy home circle, dispensing a boundless
hospitality.
All who, like me, have sojourned at Darrynane,
must allow that no one left it without a grateful
feeling for the cordial welcome that had there
greeted them.
On our arrival, Mr. O'Connell and some mem-
bers of his family, were walking in the gardens,
and we immediately joined them, and loitered
there most pleasantly together until the shades of
evening warned us to separate.
A great variety of annuals and flowering shrubs
were in full bloom, and, though late in the season,
176 DESCRIPTION OF HOUSE OF DARRYNANE.
some summer roses had put forth a second crop of
blossoms.
A very large party met at dinner, a mixture of
nations, several foreigners, some English, and the
large majority Irish. Darrynane was open to all,
and its present sociability was never destroyed
by politics. Mr. O'Connell had laughs and jokes
against members of his family, but the guests were
well secure from even a shade of unpleasantness
in any allusion to religion or politics.
The house of Darrynane is large, an odd, ir-
regular pile of building, rooms added on to the
old house, without any regard to architectural
design ; yet look at it from the western rocks
beyond the beach, and the whole had a most
pleasing effect ; here the castellated projection
forming Mr. O'ConnelFs study and the libraries,
here a pointed gable-end, and behind the high roofs
of the older house.
The rooms were comfortably furnished, and
it required a full development of the organ of
locality to find one's way, on a short acquaintance,
through the various ante-rooms and passages lead-
ing to the bed-room.
The drawing-room was very large, and served
as a ball-room every night, for there was a nume-
rous party of dancing people now in the house.
How gay were those pleasant soirees dansantes !
TWO HARES STARTED. 177
No matter what had been the fatigues of the
morning, dancing was supposed the best remedy
for them.
My first night at Darrynane I was trying in
my dreams to get through the complicated figure
of an old country dance we had been dancing,
and I had just satisfactorily accomplished it
when I was awakened by a voice saying, " It
is a beautiful morning, will you get up to go
hunting ? "
I am afraid there was more than one repeti-
tion of the sluggard's complaint from our party,
" You 've awaked me too early ; " whether any
followed his bad example, and " turned their
great lazy shoulders " for another sleep, I cannot
say ; I only know I did not, and certainly that
glorious October morning was worth some exer-
tion to see, and I pitied the lazy ones as we
all went merrily together up the " Meadow
Walk," a pretty pathway by a winding mountain-
river.
Just as we gained the road a hare started
from her " form," and away she scampered, the
hounds in full cry after her.
I was told it was an especially fine hunting
morning, the trail lay so well on the ground,
and certainly the pack hunted keenly, with a
magnificent chorus of voices, which must be heard
178 BREAKFAST WITH THE " LIBERATOR.'*'
among mountain-cliffs to be fully admired. Poor
puss could not long escape ; notwithstanding all
her feminine turns and twists to evade her pur-
suers, she was killed.
Another hare was soon started, and her death-
scene brought us over Coomakishta, and seated
in a sheltered nook, with Ballinskelligs bay below
us, and wild mountains above and around, we
prepared for the business of breakfast with sport-
ing appetites.
The scene was a novel and interesting one ;
seated on a stone with various members of his
family, and his guests grouped around him, was
the " Liberator," a sense of freedom in his looks ;
— that wild country how unlike his prison ! — and
ruddy health bloomed on his cheek that fresh
morning ; farther off were the hounds reposing
from their labours, with their attendant hunts-
men, and their body-guard of young sturdy moun-
taineers.
Near us were piles of bread and meat and
butter, smoking hot potatoes, jars of warm tea
and coffee, and bottles of milk, and cold punch.
As we sat thus, it was a fit scene for a painter ;
yet no painter could do justice to the joyousness
of the picture — the glimpses of mirth, one laugh
the echo of the other.
Among the many anecdotes of that pleasant
SFANISH HIDDEN TREASURE. 179
forenoon, Mr. O'Coimell told me one about a
huge rock, with an excavated hole by its side,
which I had remarked, and near which we sat.
In the time of his grandfather, who lived at
Darrynane, a Spanish ship, with a quantity of
specie on board, was driven by adverse winds on
the coast, and chased by an English vessel.
To save at least her money, she sailed into
Ballinskelligs bay, and round the point, and in
the little bay of Loher she effected a landing, and
following up the stream below to its source, the
men buried the treasure under that rock, regained
their ship, and, favoured by the wind, escaped
from the bay and from pursuit.
Years went by when a Spaniard sought and
obtained shelter at Darrynane, and was observed
during many days to wander about the moun-
tains.
The owner of the treasure had accurately de-
scribed the bay, the little river, and its source,
and the huge rock, the monument above his
hidden gold, by which the stranger recognised the
land-marks, found his money, and departed.
The fame of this was noised about, and the first
curious seekers found under the rock some few
gold pieces that had escaped the Spaniard's search,
then others came, and scooped out the holes as
they remain to this clay.
180 A FOX HUNT.
The arrival of the post-bag takes us back to the
seemingly far-off world ; here we have the Lon-
don papers, with an article in one of them filled
with the bitterest abuse of this peaceful hunter.
He read it aloud to us with many laughable addi-
tions.
Nothing having fallen to my lot in the distribu-
tion of the letters and papers, Mr. O'Connell pre-
sented me with a picture of Lord Byron sent to
him by a lady who professed to be a devoted
admirer of these two " great geniuses," some
music dedicated to him, a closely-written MS.
pamphlet on political economy, and some highly
laudatory Latin verses. I was quite satisfied with
my share.
But now all must be laid aside, for it is time to
resume our hunting, and nothing loth, we all start
up, and to reward our alacrity, the dogs soon find
a fox, in the dark cliffs over our heads, and away
he goes right over the mountain, and up and down
the other side. We gladly pause to take breath
on the mountain side above the Abbey Island, and
below us on the smooth sandy beach is the fox,
with the hounds in eager chase after him : into the
Abbey Island he goes, and skirting the old ruins,
he turns off through the heather and rocks of the
island.
We were seated in a group together, as the
OLD ABBEY OF DARRYNANE. 181
pack neared the abbey; Mr. CTConnell, in a very
agitated manner, desired one of his sons to have
them instantly " called off," to keep them from the
abbey; but before the order could be obeyed, they
were away after the fox.
I learned the cause of his agitation to be, that
within the abbey lie the remains of the late Mrs.
O'Connell, who died at Darrynane in 1836, and
to whom Mr. CTConnell was most devotedly at-
tached.
The fox, after several narrow escapes, takes
shelter under a rock, and we leave him to enjoy
his security, the huntsmen all trying to " unearth"
him.
The old Abbey of Darrynane or Darragh-nane,
i.e., the " ivied oak ;" is situated about an English
mile from the dwelling-house overhanging the
roaring ocean, and in the island, so called, which
is only an island at very high spring-tides.
It was founded in the seventh century for
canons regular of the order of St. Augustin, by the
monks of St. Finbar's monastery in Cork.
I copied the following epitaph from the tomb of
Mr. O'ConnelFs uncle, the late proprietor of Dar-
rynane, from the unusual circumstance of his
having had it written by his nephew before his
death, to prevent t any unmerited compliments
being paid him by a posthumous eulogium.
1S2 LETTER FROM MR. O'CONNELL.
" The chief ambition of his long and prosperous
life was to elevate an ancient family from unme-
rited and unjust oppression. His allegiance was
pure and disinterested, his love of his native land
sincere and avowed, and his attachment to the
Ancient Faith of his fathers, to the Church of
Christ, was his first pride and chief consolation.
He died 10th February, 1825, aged ninety-seven
years. K. I. P.1'
" They loved him best who knew him most."
I will conclude this chapter with an extract
from a letter of Mr. O'ConnelFs to Walter Savage
Landor, in 1838, it is so characteristic of the
man, and so true a description of his mountain-
home.
" Little do you imagine how many besides
myself have been delighted with the poetic ima-
ginings which inspired these lines on one of the
wonders of my infancy — the varying sounds
emitted by marine shells : —
' Shake one, and it awakens, then apply
Its polish'd lips to your attentive ear ;
And it remembers its august abodes,
And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there I''
" Would that I had you here to show you
' their august abode ' in its most awful beauty.
LETTER FROM MR. O'CONNELL. 183
I could show you at noontide, when the stern
south-wester had hlown long and rudely, the
mountain-waves coming in from the illimitable
ocean in majestic succession, expending their
gigantic force, and throwing up stupendous masses
of foam against the more gigantic and more stu-
pendous mountain-cliffs that fence not only this
my native spot, but form that eternal barrier
which prevents the wild Atlantic from submerging
the cultivated plains, and high steepled villages of
proud Britain herself. Or, were you with me
amidst the alpine scenery that surrounds my
humble abode, listening to the eternal roar of the
mountain-torrent, as it bounds through the rocky
defiles of my native glens, I would venture to tell
you how I was born within the sound of the
everlasting wave, and how my dreamy boyhood
dwelt upon imaginary intercourse with those who
are dead of yore, and fed its fond fancies upon the
ancient and long-faded glories of the land which
preserved literature and Christianity when the rest
of now civilised Europe was shaded in the dark-
ness of godless ignorance. Yes ! my expanding
spirit delighted in these day-dreams, till catching
from them an enthusiasm which no disappoint-
ment can embitter, nor accumulating years di-
minish, I formed the high resolve to leave my
184 LETTER FROM MR. CTCONNELL.
native land better after my death, than I found
her at my birth, and if possible to make her what
she ought to be : —
1 Great, glorious, and free,
First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea.'
" Perhaps if I could show you the calm
and exquisite beauty of these capacious bays and
mountain promontories, softened in the pale moon-
light which shines this lovely evening, till all
which during the day was grand and terrific has
become calm and serene in the silent tranquillity
of the clear night, perhaps you would readily
admit that the man who has so often been called a
ferocious demagogue is, in truth, a gentle lover of
Nature, an enthusiast of all her beauties.
' Fond of each gentle and each dreary scene,'
" And catching from the loveliness, as well as the
dreariness of the ocean and Alpine scenes with
which he is surrounded, a greater ardour to pro-
mote the good of man in his overwhelming admi-
ration of the mighty works of God."
MERRY PARTIES AT DARRYNANE. 185
CHAPTER XIX.
MERRY PARTIES AT DARRYNANE. MR. o'cONNELL's LOVE OF
CHILDREN. REFLECTIONS IN DARRYNANE ABBEY. RUINED
CHURCH OF KILCROHANE. GIGANTIC ASH-TREE. — STAIGNE
FORT. — USE OF THESE FORTS. GENERAL VALLANCEY's AND
MR. NIMMO'S OPINIONS. — VISIT TO SCARIFF ISLAND. — ANCIENT
HERMITAGE. PRIVATE THEATRICALS. PROLOGUE TO " SHE
STOOPS TO CONQUER." AUTOGRAPH REFUSED TO EMPEROR
OF RUSSIA. AUTOGRAPHS GRANTED TO OTHERS.
I
It was now beautiful autumnal weather, and
our merry party at Darrynane profited by it.
There were pleasant morning excursions, and gay
evening re-unions, when all seemed to wish to
enjoy themselves doubly, as if to honour in
welcoming home the liberated chieftain.
How full of enjoyment were those days, and
what pleasant memories I shall ever retain of
them ! Dear, delightful Darrynane ! how changed
will be your aspect a few years hence, and how
many, like me, will wish they could re-animate
that happy home, so blessed now in the tender-
nesses of its family meeting !
How much Mr. CTConnell enjoyed his freedom !
186 MR. o'connell's love of children.
— yet, in the midst of the gayest moods, and even
infectiously gay they sometimes w#ere, a train of
saddening thought would at times cloud his cheer-
ful brow, and you could see that there were
anxious fears around his heart, and that his down-
ward way had indeed begun.
A few mornings after my arrival at Darrynane,
a dark rainy day, we had a small " monster meet-
ing " in the drawing-room, the majority being
noisy children, and among the most playful and
merriest was our host himself. That he dearly
loved children, was shown in the beaming tender-
ness of his smile as he talked to them. I was now
reminded of the Heep impression he made on my
childish affections many years ago; now he fondled
one child, and now another, and the laughter was
long and loud.
Near him, on the table, lay a volume of
Moore's " Irish Melodies." The gay smile was
gone as he took it up, and, opening it, read, with
a pathos I can never forget, those beautiful
lines —
" Oh, blame not the bard,"
his voice taking a deep full tone as he read —
" But though glory be gone,
And though hope fade away,
Thy name, loved Erin,
Shall live in his songs,
REFLECTIONS IN DARRYNANE ABBEY. 187
Not e'en in the hour,
When his heart is most gay,
Wilfhe lose the remembrance
Of thee and thy wrongs ! "
The afternoon clearing up, the party dispersed,
and I went to take a sketch of the old abbey, and,
as I looked on the ruin, I thought how beautiful
was the religious enthusiasm which had filled our
ancient monasteries, severing ties of home and
kindred, for those who came thither to serve unin-
terruptedly their Creator. It may be that to our
worldly notions, the lives passed therein seem to
have gone by uselessly, and that the gentle tend-
ance of the poor, the quiet literary labours of the
learned among the brotherhood, in their calm
seclusion now come before us, as a life partaking
more of the meek follower than of the soldier of
the Gospel.
As I stood within the old abbey-walls, I felt
how truly Nature gave her silent worship of the
Most High, for here she seemed to have replaced
the worship of other days in beautifying the ruined
work of man.
Here, over a broken arch, hung a shining
festoon of ivy ; here, where a saint's image had
stood, sprang up a thriving shrub. There were
wild flowers in the niches and among the graves,
perfumiDg the air, and the sunshine breaking
188 STAIGNE FORT.
through the clouds, and the murmuring sea
dashing on the rocks below, amid the dust of those
whose heart-felt worship had blessed the spot.
Their solemn chaunts and the incense and lights
of their ceremonies, were here beautifully renewed.
Eastwards of Darrynane (they always count in
these parts by the cardinal points) is the old
ruined church of Kilcrohane, on the mountain-
side, and commanding an exquisite view. Near
it is an extremely curious stone-cell, with a well,
dedicated to St. Crohane, over which grows a
gigantic ash-tree, said to be the largest in Ireland,
and which I readily believe.
This tree is hung with innumerable coloured
rags, placed by pilgrims who visit the well ;
this superstition is the remains of a custom brought
anciently from the east, and where, to this day,
trees are to be seen decked with rags. A greater
rarity, we know, there than in poor old Ireland.
Following a mountain-road from Kilcrohane,
we came to Staigne Fort, the most perfect and
remarkable of these structures found in Ireland.
It stands amid an amphitheatre of mountains,
opening on the south to the Kenmare river. Its
periphery is divided by ten steps of ascent to the
top of the wall, and there are curious enclosed
chambers inside these. It is surrounded on the
outside by a deep moat.
VISIT TO SCARIFF ISLAND. 189
The use of these stone-forts has been the
subject of much conjecture. Good judges agree,
however, in saying they were built by the natives
as places of refuge from the piratical attacks of the
Danes.
General Vallencey supposes Steigne fort to be a
Phoenician amphitheatre, and Mr. Nimmo thinks
it was originally intended as an observatory. " It
appeared to me,11 says he, in the u Transactions of
the Royal Irish Academy," vol. xiv. " that the
structure exhibited a graduation of the horizon."
Among our antiquarian pilgrimages, was a
voyage to Scariff Island, and a visit to its ruined
cell. The sea, really like a mirror in its " glassy
form," tempted us to a boating party to this
island, distant about four sea-miles from the
harbour of Darrynane. The gentlemen armed
themselves with guns, bent on the slaughter of
rabbits and sea- fowl, with which Scariff abounds ;
and the ladies, on peaceful thoughts intent,
brought their sketch-books and botanical port-
folios.
The row across was delightful, the whole range
of mountains showing in the clear air ; and when I
had gained the summit of the island, I thought I
had never seen a more magnificent view. I never
before felt I could understand the ocean in its
mmensity.
190 PRIVATE THEATRICALS.
We saw the vestiges of an ancient hermitage
and burial-ground, and an old woman, living on a
dairy-farm here, told me she very seldom went
to the mainland, hut that ' on Sundays she came
up to this old cell, and, turning her face to the
east, knelt down and said her prayers. She
had travelled, she assured us, and that, " the
other day, she had been in Dublin : " the " other
day " proved to be " nigh unto twenty years
ago.,, It spoke volumes for the calm of her
peaceful life, when years seemed as days. How
very few that have not had sorrows and cares
chequering their path in the lapse of twenty
years !
Descending to the boats, we find we have
lingered too long geologising and botanising and
shooting and gossiping, for a surging sea has
replaced the morning's calm, and we get slowly
over the heaving waves — for the wind has risen,
and is against the tide, and we have a frightfully
rough passage home, and most unbecoming com-
plexions when we land.
Any one who has been staying in a pleasant
country-house, with a large family-party, where
the occasional strangers soon feel themselves quite
at home, knows what an agreeable episode are
" private theatricals."
The play, " She Stoops to Conquer,1' had been
" SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER." 191
announced for immediate performance, and when
the expected day of its appearance came, the
house seemed all in confusion, and a placard
announced, on the door of the large dining-room,
that "there was no entrance except on business
with the stage-manager," it was being fitted
up as a theatre. Mr. (TConnell and many of
his guests made various ineffectual attempts to
see the preparations — glimpses of theatrical para-
phernalia, and remonstrances from the manager,
were all the curious obtained.
But the theatre opened, and the curtain rose
in due time, and the prologue was very well
spoken, and the play began.*
The dramatis persona: wrere mostly members
* PROLOGUE.
SPOKEN BY IN THE CHARACTER OF YOUNG MARLOWE.
" Ladies and gentlemen, we act with changes needed
Old Goldsmith's play — (pray did you ever read it ?)
' She Stoops to Conquer,' styled a comedy,
Changed not in story, but morality.
The characters I trust you '11 find like life —
Jolly Squire Hardcastle, and his old wife !
His dashing daughter Kate, and step-son wild ;
Young Tony Lumpkin — preciously spoiled child !
Myself am bashful Marlowe courting Kate,
And then there 's Hastings seeking a like fate
With Constance Neville ; then the lady's maid,
Fair Miss Maria,— admirably played !
Good Dolly follows next, and Diggory,
Whom in two characters you '11 shortly see ;
192 "SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER."
of Mr. O'ConnelFs family ; his son John, as old
Hardcastle, was admirable, and all knew their
parts well, and acted very creditably.
Mr. O'Connell seemed to 'enjoy the performance
exceedingly, and as the curtain fell, the applause
was " long and loud." And a very merry night
we had, ending one of the pleasantest days in
my recollections of the " gay old times," at
Darrynane.
Mr. O'Connell spent his mornings, when not
But Cerberus comes next, and stoutly done !
1 Three single gentlemen rolled into one ! '
One actor represents three characters —
Sir Charles Marlowe, and two drunken curs.
Last follows the good landlady Dame Stingo —
A good name in a public house, by jingo !
I '11 not anticipate by more description,
But, doctor-like, I '11 venture a prescription, —
Imprimis, take your seats ; then do not show
But hold your tongues ! if that 's an art you know.
An ounce of kindness would not be ill taken,
And at our jokes your sides may be well shaken.
What next shall I prescribe ? — some exercise
Of hands in clapping, that 's what I 'd advise.
Howe'er we act, your scorn we cannot fear, —
You 're friends to Irish manufacture here.
Goldsmith was Ireland's son, and all our band
Claim as their own the same beloved land !
That land whose present calm we read aright
' She Stoops to Conquer ' in the peaceful fight !
On your good hearts we firmly now rely
For kind encouragement — and so — good bye ! "
AUTOGRAPHS GRANTED. 193
out hunting, in his study, generally busy on poli-
tical matters. I went to him one day to pro-
cure some autographs for friends, and I heard
two little anecdotes which I thought worth re-
cording.
An application was made to Mr. O'Connell
for his autograph for Prince Dolgorowski, who
wished for it, for the Emperor of Russia, and
he decidedly refused giving it, being too sincere
a lover of freedom not to detest politically the
Russian autocrat.
This found its way into the papers, and a
French lady wrote the following note : —
"Av Monsieur CTConnell,
16 Envoi d'une dame Francaise pour ob-
tenir de lui la faveur d\m de ces autographes,
qui ne sont refuses, dit on, qu'aux Empereurs.
" J. de la Porte.
" 30 Aout, 1841, Bordeaux."
That the French lady was at once obliged,
need not be told.
The King of Bavaria applied through the Baron
de Cetto for an autograph, and acknowledged
it in an English letter to Mr. O'Meara, for which
I am indebted to a friend. The style is so
peculiar that I insert it here.
K
194 AUTOGRAPHS GRANTED.
" These lines, written from the hand of that
energetical character, inseparable for ever from
the history of our age, the autograph of that
great man, Mr. D. O'Connell, should not fail
to be wanting in a collection of this kind. I
request you to say my thanks, especially to Mr.
D. O'Connell himself, for his kindness in ful-
filling my desire in such an obliging way.
Lewis."
"And here," said Mr. O'Connell, handing me
an autograph he had written, " are lines ren-
dered famous by the attorney-general, who
quoted them in his opening speech on the state-
trials as having been repeated by me at the
public dinner in Tuam, after our splendid monster
meeting there, the 24th of July last year.
" Oh Erin ! shall it e'er be mine,
To wreathe thy wrongs in battle-line,
To raise my victor head and see
Thy hills, thy dales, thy people free ?
That glimpse of bliss is all I crave
Between my labours and my grave."
FAREWELL TO DARRYNANE. 195
CHAPTER XX.
MR. O'CONNELL INVITED TO LIMERICK. — FAREWELL TO DARRY-
NANE. MR. O'CONNELL'S ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE ON
CAHIRCONRIGH. MR. o'cONNELL's NUMEROUS VISITORS.
ANNIVERSARY OF HIS IMPRISONMENT. MONSTER MEETING IN
KILLARNEY. PROCESSION OF TRADES. MR. o'cONNELL 's
ENTHUSIASTIC RECEPTION. PUBLIC DINNER. — VERSES ON
MR. O'CONNELL.
" 'Tis all but a dream at the best ;
And still when happiest fleetest :"
So sings Moore, and in real life, as in dreams,
the happiest days are the most fleet. So it has
been, so it will be, and so it was in our especial
case ; our delightful social gathering at Darry-
nane was about to be broken up, Mr. CTConnell
having accepted an invitation to a public dinner
in Limerick, and our weeks seemed to have gone
like days.
The bright morning's sun gleamed on our
farewell to Darrynane ; and I shall never forget
the surpassing loveliness of the scene as we all
paused at an angle of the road to take a "last
K 2
196 MR. o'connell's numerous visitors.
fond look M of the " Liberator's mountain- home : "
he paused, too, and there was deep regret
in his look as he turned from that sweet view.
" I shall be back soon again,"" was his exclama-
tion ; but he did not return until the following
autumn.
A most exhilarating hunt was a pleasant episode
in this day's little journey to Cahirciveen, from
whence, after some days1 delay, I accompanied
Mr. CTConnell to Tralee.
At the summit of Cahirconrigh, the mountain
above that town, we were met by an enormous
concourse of people, and their enthusiastic joy
to welcome back their aged chief, equalled any-
thing I had ever witnessed. Amid shouts and
blessings we entered Tralee, where Mr. O'Connell
immediately addressed them in a speech full of
humour, and full of heart. He touched lightly
on his imprisonment, and feelingly on the home
he had just quitted.
I read those pages, and it seems to me that
I have scarcely rendered justice to that home,
with all that made it so enjoyable. The world-
wide fame of its owner brought many a visitor
to that secluded spot ; and our society was often
delightfully varied by visits from agreeable and
distinguished foreigners.
I remember on one occasion our reckoning at
MONSTER MEETING IN KILLARNEY. 197
dinner twelve languages spoken — including, of
course, English and Irish, and supposing some
among the company learned enough to " talk
Latin and Greek."
I recollect one dark, wet night, as we were all
seated at that same table, and the party this day
numbered thirty-three, a stranger arrived and
inquired for Mr. O'Connell, and was ushered in
by one of his sons. He was a young Englishman,
making a tour round the southern shore, and
riding from Waterville towards Kenmare ; his
pony lost a shoe, and wisely strayed from the
high road to the avenue leading to Darrynane.
The stranger apologized for the intrusion ; there
was much native grace and heartiness in Mr.
O'Conneirs welcome as he rose to greet him, and
placing him next himself, said, M We are, indeed,
infinitely obliged to your pony, sir."
On the 30th of May, 1845, Mr. O'Connell
held a levee at the Rotunda, Dublin, to celebrate
the anniversary of the imprisonment ; and it was,
I have been assured by an eye-witness, one of the
most impressive displays of popular enthusiasm he
had ever seen.
The monster meeting in Killarney took place
in the same year, and I occupied a seat in the
well-filled " Repeal Coach " that left Tralee
198 PROCESSION OF TRADES.
that morning for it, and a merry travelling
party we were, — Mr. O'Connell the gayest
amongst us- — as if politics had never troubled our
lives.
Mr. Smith O'Brien was one of the number, and
seemed full of generous confidence in his leader.
The clay was beautiful, and the sun shone ap-
provingly on the thousands that welcomed us as
we approached Killarney. The place of meeting
was on the race-course about two miles from the
town, and no pen of mine can do justice to the
surpassing loveliness of the view from that chosen
spot. The ground slopes down to the waters of
the Lower Lake, its edge marked here by a peb-
bly beach, and the back-ground of glorious moun-
tains, and the woods and waters were gleaming in
the rich sunshine.
The numbers at this meeting were counted by
tens of thousands, and a dense multitude they
seemed, all brought together by the earnest wish
to do honour to their aged chief, and to prove to
him their hopes to see " Ould Ireland righted."*
There was a very pretty procession of the trades
with banners and wands adorned with ribbons
and green branches ; and there were several tem-
perance societies with their bands ; but the finest
sight of all was some hundreds of fine-looking men
from Kenmare, each bearing a small banner,
mr. o'connell's reception. 199
either green or pink. The effect of the whole
was most impressive, and it was a more inspiring
and a more lovely scene than I shall ever again
witness.
A large stand had been erected for the speakers,
and as Mr. O'Connell mounted on it, and was
recognised by the crowd below, a cheer burst
forth so loud, so enthusiastic, again and again
repeated, that it seemed to awaken, the famed
echoes of Loch Lein.
Of the speeches I shall say nothing : necessarily
they were a repetition of what had been often
said, but they were listened to delightedly by
those who were near enough to hear.
He drove back to Killarney for a time among
lines of the " finest peasantry in the world,"
and certainly here it was no vain boast, for I
glanced along the rows of fine stalwart men, old,
and middle-aged and young, and their wives and
daughters ; and at an average every second woman
was handsome. True it is that a smiling face
wins admiration, and bright eyes and white
teeth and healthy looks make up a comely pic-
ture, and all around was joy and excitement.
Still exciting as politics were there was some-
thing far more pleasantly so, I hoped, in the joyous
greetings I read in many a young couple's recog-
nitions.
200 VERSES ON MR. O'CONNELL.
To be in such a scene without feelings of ro-
mance was utterly at variance with the national
character. And the sad romance of reality had
often during that morning come to my mind with
the thought, all cheerful and smiling as were man
and Nature, why amid such blessings of beauty
and fertility around us had man marred Nature's
work ?
There was a public dinner that evening in a
large temporary building erected in the town of
Killarney, and the usual amount of speeches, and
in my idea more than the usual amount of genuine
eloquence.
Several of the gentlemen appeared in the '82
uniform, and I thought I never saw it to such
advantage as on the portly figure of Daniel
O'Connell.
The following verses come not inappropriately
after the description of a " Monster Meeting."
They were published in the " Nation," and
written during his mayoralty in Dublin : —
O'CONNELL.
I saw him at the hour of prayer,
When morning's earliest dawn
Was breaking o'er the mountain-tops,
O'er grassy dell and lawn ;
When the parting shades of night had fled,
When moon and stars were o-one.
VERSES ON MR. o'CONNELL. 201
Before a high and gorgeous shrine,
The chieftain knelt alone.
His hands were clasped upon his breast,
His eye was raised above ;
I heard those full and solemn tones
In words of faith and love :
He pray'd that those who wrong'd him might
For ever be forgiven ;
Oh ! who would say such prayers as these
Are not received in Heaven ?
I saw him next amid the best
And noblest of our isle ;
There was the same majestic form,
The same heart-kindling smile ;
But grief was on that princely brow —
For others still he mourn'd,
He gazed upon poor fetter'd slaves,
And his heart within him burn'd :
And he vowed before the captive's God,
To break the captive's chain —
To bind the broken heart, and set
The bondsman free again.
And fit he was our chief to be
In triumph or in need ;
Who never wrong'd his deadliest foe,
In thought, or word, or deed !
I saw him when the light of eve
Had faded from the west —
Beside the hearth the old man sat,
By infant forms caress'd.
One hand was gently laid upon
His grandchild's clustering hair,
The other raised to heaven, invoked
A blessing and a prayer ;
k 5
202 VERSES ON MR. O'CONNELL.
And woman's lips were heard to breathe
A high and glorious strain.
Those songs of old that haunt us still,
And ever will remain
Within the heart, like treasured gems
That bring from memory's cell,
Thoughts of our youthful days, and friends
That we have loved so well !
I saw that eagle-glance again —
The brow was marked with care ;
Though rich and regal are the robes
The nation's chief doth wear ;
And many an eye now quailed with shame,
And many a cheek now glow'd,
As he paid them back with words of love,
For every curse bestow'd.
I thought of his unceasing care,
His never-ending zeal,
I heard the watchword burst from all —
The gathering cry — "Repeal."
And as his eyes were raised to heaven,
From whence his mission came —
He stood amid the thousands there
A monarch save in name !
MAGNIFICENT VALLEY. 203
CHAPTER XXL
blackwater bridge. demesne of dromore. — glengarriff.
esk mountain tunnel. — french invasions at bantry
bay. lord bantry's cottage. — drive to castletown.
cromwell's bridge. — allihies mines. — tragedy at
dunboy castle. the wishing-rock on dursey island. —
natural advantages of berehaven harbour. view
from hungry hill. — legend of the mountain lakes. —
o'sullivan possessions. town of bantry. gongane-
BARRA. — MR. o'cONNELL's POPULARITY.
To the pedestrian, or the fearless equestrian,
the wild mountain-road by Lough Brinn and
Blackwater to Kenmare possesses great attrac-
tions. Passing from the high road from Killarney
to Kenmare at Derrycunibeg, the route leads by
Gheremine through the magnificent valley of Coom
Dhnbh (the Black Pass), than which I can imagine
nothing more wildly grand, huge mountains rising
on each side, with here and there patches of cul-
tivation, and little clumps of trees.
In the depth of solitude, Lough Brinn appears
dark in mountain-shadows, and from it flows into
204 GLENGARRIFF.
the Kenniare estuary, the Blackwater, the lake
and the river, both famous for excellent trout.
The bridge at the village of Blackwater is a
very picturesque old structure, sixty feet in height,
the banks on both sides are very steep and richly
wooded. Approaching the bridge by boat, as most
tourists do, it is seen to the greatest advantage,
the long tall arches with the centre pillar resting
on a rock, and the waters gushing and sparkling
under them, and down the rocks, to the tranquil
pool below, from which the salmon are said to be
constantly leaping up the waterfall ; but I never
was fortunate enough to see any attempt it.
We drove through the demesne of Dromore,
and admired the newly-erected castle looking
down upon forests of overgrown nettles and rank
weeds, and more in keeping with them than with
the new edifice were the ruins of two old castles,
formerly possessions of the (TSullivan family, both
of which are said to have been bravely defended
by their owners against Cromwell's troops.
GlengarrhT, or the Rough Glen, is a spot of
exquisite beauty, combining all that makes a lovely
landscape. Mountains, woods, waters, and islands,
all blending together in a series of sweet pic-
tures. It is distant several miles from Kenmare,
from which the new road to it is admirably con-
structed over the mountains, and the traveller is
FRENCH INVASIONS AT BANTRY BAY. 205
surprised to come through a tunnel at the top of
Esk mountain of two hundred yards long. A
hole in the centre does the double duty of letting
in the light and marking the boundary between
the counties of Cork and Kerry. He must be a
great traveller indeed, and a very fastidious one,
if he be not surprised and delighted by the view
that bursts upon him just below the tunnel.
A violent shower had made our party glad of
the friendly shelter it afforded, and as we emerged
from it, the mist was driven off the hills, and the
sun was peeping out from a cloud, and sending
some promising rays on the valley.
There were the deep blue waters of Bantry
Bay, famous in story, looking now placid as a
lake, with its various islands, and the Martello
towers showing among them, tellmg of less peace-
ful times.
The French fleet first invaded this magnificent
bay in 1689, coming to the assistance of King
James II., and the second time in 1796 — how un-
successfully on both occasions it is needless to
mention.
The pretty little hotel at Glengarriff is a most
tempting resting-place to the tourist, there is so
much in the neighbourhood to admire. The ac-
commodation there is very good, and the fares
most moderate.
206 ALLIHIES MINES.
Lord Bantry's unpretending little cottage, and
its pretty grounds are freely open to the stranger,
and so is Mrs. White's finer place, overhanging
the beautiful bay of Glengarriff.
The drive to Castletown, which was our next
resting-place, brought us a succession of fine sea
and mountain views. On leaving Glengarriff we
passed a curious old bridge, called Cromwell's
bridge, said to have been very hurriedly built by
order of that imperious commander, who on his
way to attack the strongholds of the chieftains in
this remote land, complained of having to ride
through the river, and so the tale tells that on his
return the bridge was built. But, I believe, it
was Cromwell's general who visited this country,
not himself.
I have many pleasant memories of Castletown,
and the hospitality " racy of the soil " shown us
during our stay there, and the charming rural
rambles we enjoyed, mounted on real mountain
ponies.
One day it was an excursion to the Allihies
mines, discovered by a Captain Hall, and the
property of Mr. Puseley, the most productive cop-
per mines in the kingdom. We brought away
some very fine specimens, and I blessed the chance
that had provided a source of so much employ-
ment in such a wild district, and made the owner,
THE WISHING-ROCK. 207
though an absentee, and his pretty place, Dunboy,
going to ruin, a benefactor to this part of the
country.
The old castle of Dunboy, of which little
remains, was the site of a fearful tragedy in the
" bad old times," for " good " could not be
applied here ; it was bravely defended by its
chief, Philip O'Sullivan, and after a severe struggle
taken in 1601, by the troops under Sir George
Carew, and the garrison were all basely mur-
dered !
Another day we had a ride over the mountains
and " west of the hills," in the country phraseo-
logy, and a visit to the Dursey Island, each young
lady of the party kissing the Wishing-rock there,
with a due amount of veneration, and a necessary
degree of timidity, for the undoubted rock was on
the side of a fearfully steep precipice overhanging
the "deep, deep sea." But the charm was gone
through amid great laughter, and we returned
to the mainland, and had a gay pic-nic in an old
country-house, which had been famed for its hos-
pitality in the time of our great-grandfathers, and
I think we all enjoyed ourselves as much as they
could have done.
Groups of the peasantry had assembled near
the old house, dressed in their Sunday's best for
the occasion, the women all with the brightest red
208 LEGEND OF THE MOUNTAIN LAKES.
and yellow shawls and handkerchiefs I had ever
seen^ and several young couples were dancing
away with might and main to the music (or the
airs) of an old piper.
The harbour of Berehaven, on which the little
town of Castletown is built, is said to be unsur-
passed for natural advantages, and I can affirm it
is full of natural beauties. The steep island of
Bere shuts out the boisterous Atlantic ; but, in-
deed, rough as it generally is, it treated us kindly,
for we had some boating parties exploring caves
along the very fine cliffs, and the sea was delight-
fully calm.
To the top of Hungry Hill we indefatigable
explorers climbed one bright day ; and though it
is called " hill " it is a very respectable mountain
of over two thousand feet. The view from the
summit on all sides was most grand : there was
the boundless ocean, and the bays, and old Cape
Clear showing distinctly. How often has it
been hailed with joy by the voyager from Ame-
rica ! There were mountains in all variety of
shapes, from the Sugar-loaf, close below us, to the
distant rocks of Killarney.
Among the Caha mountains lying near us we
were told there were three hundred and sixty-
five lakes, and the legend tells that they sprang
up miraculously during an excessive drought at
TOWN OF BANTRY. 209
the prayers of a holy old hermit, a dweller in
these solitudes.
Few tourists leave the beaten track, and there
are hidden beauties and objects of interest to the
antiquary, the geologist, the botanist, the fisher-
man, in rambles among the mountain-paths of the
coasts of Kerry and Cork.
Several miles from Castletown, and twelve
from Kenmare, is the harbour of Kilmacologne,
and on a bold cliff overhanging the bay are the
ruins of Ardea Castle, an O'Sullivan possession, as
nearly every thing in this part of the country
was.
We visited the fine lake of Glenmore, and the
very picturesque lakes of Cluney, one of them of
very considerable extent : then Lough Quinlan
with its remarkable floating islands ; and at Lock-
hurt there are the remains of a very perfect'
druidical circle.
I earnestly wish that others, like me, would ex-
plore this beautiful wild scenery, which requires
only to be known to be appreciated.
Bantry is an insignificant and dirty town, but
our approach to it by boat from Glengarriff was
delightful, and is, I think, the very best way
to see the mountains in their varied shapes to
the greatest advantage. From the hill at the
210 GONGANE-BARRA.
back of Lord Berehaven's residence we had a
magnificent view of the bay.
Gongane-barra lies amid an amphitheatre of
mountains ; and among all the mountain-lakes I
had recently been seeing, I saw none to please
me as it did. It was so lonely, so wild, and the
day was peculiarly suited to its beauty, being
dark and still. On its beautifully verdant little
island, such a contrast to the barrenness around, are
the ruins of the hermitage of St. Finbar, which
belonged to the monastery of that name in the
city of Cork, and a meeter spot for a monk to
forget the world he had left, and prepare for the
better one to come, I cannot imagine.
As we lingered where so many prayers had
been said, and voices raised in harmony to heaven,
a sudden sound of sweet music broke upon our
delighted ear, — a solemn old air, faint at first,
then swelling louder and louder, and echoed back
by the mountain reverberations. The effect was
delicious — the time — the place — the music of
other days — made quite a romantic episode in our
minds — when, alas ! the strain ceased, and a fine
rosy-cheeked young man jumped up from his
recumbent position, behind a wall, a cornopean in
his hand.
A merry and very homely dinner at the little
MR. O'CONNELl/S POPULARITY. 211
wayside inn prepared us to enjoy the long drive
to Macroom by the Inchageela lakes.
The shades of night were falling fast as we
passed a forge, outside of which burned brightly
a circular turf-fire, round which were collected a
group of country people, looking most joyous in
the ruddy light.
" Huzza 2 huzza V shouted our postilion, as he
succeeded in coaxing his tired horses into a
trot.
" Huzza ! huzza ! for O'Connell," roared a
stentorian voice from the crowd, and a loud hearty
cheer responded. The incident was trifling, but
it showed me how truly Mr. CTConnell then lived
in the hearts of the people.
212 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
CHAPTER XXII.
BRIEF MEMOIR OF DANIEL o'cONNELL.
With the past history of Ireland of recent
years, the name of Daniel CTConnell is so in-
separably united that a brief memoir of him may
not be unacceptable. His is a name that must
always hold a high place among the celebrated
men of the age ; and when this generation, with
its petty jealousies and paltry malices, has passed
away — when the oblivion of the grave envelopes
his maligners in total forgetfulness, a right-judging
posterity will render ample justice to the talents
devoted to benefit his country.
For his services to that country and its ancient
faith, every Catholic, whatever be the fashion of
his political creed, ought gratefully to remember
Daniel O'Connell. Yet how many among the
" hereditary bondsmen " fail in gratitude and
respect to his memory !
The family of O'Connell was one amid numerous
old Milesian septs, that, keeping faithful to the
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 213
ancient church, were despoiled of their ancient
territory, and who clung to their native land,
retaining in all its vigour the pride of birth, with
little but the remembrance of their former great-
ness to keep it alive.
Among the beautiful mountain-wilds of Glenear,
a small remnant of the family property was
overlooked by the despoil ers, and so escaped
confiscation.
Times had changed, and on the lands where
the chieftains had ruled with despotic sway, they
now wore their lives away in useless murmurs :
too deeply-rooted a pride to enter on trade ; too
deeply-rooted a hatred of their new rulers to
submit tamely to their government ; and, redeem-
ing virtue ! — too deeply-rooted a love for and belief
in the religion of their forefathers, to sacrifice it
for any worldly consideration. The inflictions of
the penal laws are too well known to require
repetition.
The barony of Iveragh, with the southern part
of Dunkerne, is, to my taste, a singularly beautiful
country ; its lofty mountains casing in two broad
valleys, and its fit boundary — the restless Atlantic
— washing those wilds ; now forming an estuary
and harbour, as at Cahirciveen and Valencia —
now dashing on stupendous cliffs, as along the
chain of mountains by Dingle Bay, and round the
214 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
headlands — and, again, rolling on the immense
sandy beach of Ballinskelligs.
On a grant of land given in Queen Elizabeth's
time to Trinity College, Dublin, began the little
fishing village of Cahirciveen, improved of recent
years into a small country town.
On the opening of the estuary on which it
stands, on the opposite shore, stand the ruins of
Ballycarbery Castle, at one time the residence of
the CConnell chieftain ; and, higher up — now
also in ruins — is the once comfortable country
house of Carhea, in which was born, August 6th,
1775, Daniel CTConnell.
The ivy, planted some years since to protect
those walls, flourishes luxuriantly now round the
old house ; and how earnestly I have wished, as
I have noticed its growth, that the hopes for
Ireland's welfare which took root in the heart that
first beat within those ruins, may bloom in a
happier future.
Morgan O'Connell, the second son of Daniel
O'Connell, of Darrynane, married Catherine,
daughter of John O'Mullane, Esq., of White-
church, county Cork.
Daniel was the fourth child of a family of
fourteen children, of whom nine lived to ma-
ture age and married, and six of these now
survive.
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 215
A tutor instructed Daniel and his brothers,
Maurice and John, in their early years, and even
as a very young child, the first named was re-
markably fond of reading, and would quietly sit
for hours — though he was a very lively boy — in
a quiet corner poring over a book.
At ten years of age, he wrote a play, of very
Jacobite tendency : the subject, the house of
Stuart against that of the Guelphs ; the manu-
script, in the large letters of a child's writing,
filling a prodigious quantity of paper.
Fond as Daniel was of books, he loved sporting
even better, and the half play-day on Saturday,
and often the whole of Friday, granted by an
indulgent mother's request, were spent in hunting
or fishing.
The previous evening, arrangements were
made ; if the decision were in favour of hunting,
dogs had to be collected from neighbouring
friends, for the young boys could only boast of
a few hounds ; and if for fishing, bait was care-
fully prepared, and by break of day — and often
in late autumn and early spring before it — the
boys were far away from home.
Amid those quiet mountain-valleys, by the
sparkling rivers watering them, rose within the
warm young heart of Daniel O'Connell that love
216 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
of fatherland which unchangingly urged on his
career, and so saddened the over-worked old man
in his last days.
I have heard of his dreamy reveries, reclining
on some mossy bank, by the side of a favourite
trout-pool, and his passionate admiration of the
beauties of Nature, the high thoughts of after
years stirring within him ; and then the boyish
glee with which he would count dozen after
dozen of the pretty speckled trout of these
mountain-streams, the trophies of his skill as an
angler.
Visits to Darrynane to his grandmother and
uncle Maurice were among the pleasures of vaca-
tion, and to one, during early childhood, he well
remembered travelling in a panier slung on a
horse, his younger brother John being in the
second basket, with a weight to balance him, and
both the children's delight, as the horse in pass-
ing the ford of Tuny river, which was then much
flooded, went into such deep water that it came
into their baskets.
Now beautiful carriage-roads traverse those
wilds ; and bridges, at which our ancestors would
have wondered, cross the rivers ; the traces of
the steep mountain-paths remain for us to mar-
vel at ; the great romance of travel has been
superseded by the comfort of it — a word more
DANIEL O CONNELL. 217
befitting our experiences of the nineteenth cen-
turv.
»>
To the family of Boyle, settlers in the county
Cork, was given, in Elizabeth's reign, a grant of
the Abbey lands of Darrynane, belonging to the
monks of the confiscated convent of St. Finbar,
in Cork city.
John CTConnell, of Tarmins, the great-grand-
father of the subject of this sketch, married a
Miss Conway, daughter of Conway of Castle
Conway, on the river Laune, since called Kill-
orglin ; she was a very accomplished woman, and,
though descended from Elizabethan settlers, veri-
fied the saying of being " more Irish than the
Irish:'
A Captain Boyle, visiting his lands of Darry-
nane, gave to this pair a lease of it for forty
years, offering a lease for ever, for which the
lady promptly thanked him, telling him, she
hoped such would be useless, that the king would
come again, and that all would have their own,
and if he did not, that such a lease would bring
on them a bill of discovery.
Smith, in his history of Kerry, mentions his
visit to Darrynane, and his reception by Daniel
Connell, son of this lady. The Catholics in those
days, and, indeed, for many years later, care-
L
218 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
fully suppressed their Milesian adjunct of O and
Mac.
" Per Mac atque 0, tu veros cognoscis Hibernos ;
His duobus demptis, nullus Hibernus adest :"
(C By O and Mac you '11 surely know
True Irishmen alway ;
But if they lack both 0 and Mac
No Irishmen are they."
The historian, a family tradition tells, took a
great fancy to a mountain pony, and expressing
his admiration to his host, told him that if he
could give him the little animal he would insert
a paragraph in the history he was preparing,
telling how ancient were his family, and how
they had suffered.
" The pony is yours, with much pleasure,,,
replied the owner of it, " conditionally that you
say nothing of me or my family. I only wish
for the safety of obscurity.1' The experiences
of his fathers were not thrown away upon him.
In his thirteenth year, Daniel and his brother
Maurice were sent to the Rev. Mr. Harrington's
school, at Redington, near the Cove of Cork,
where a few years since I read Daniel's name,
scraped in school-boy's writing on a pane of glass
there.
From this the boys were sent by their uncle
Maurice, who, being childless himself, had adopted
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 219
them, to the Continent, and at the college of St.
Omer, Daniel quickly rose to the highest places
in the classes ; from St. Omer they were trans-
ferred to the English college at Douay.
In 1794 Daniel entered as a law -student at
Lincoln's Inn, and in May, 1798 — that year so
fatally memorable to Ireland — he was called to
the bar.
The autumn of the same year he had a violent
fever at Darrynane, and during it he raved in-
cessantly of his country; his brother John, to
whom he was always tenderly attached, coming
to see him during the progress of the fierce
disease, he recognised him instantly, and, jump-
ing up in bed, exclaimed, " What news from the
disturbed districts r I am to be a delegate ! "
There was a struggle of some days, and youth
triumphed, and Daniel lived to serve that country
which had such a firm hold on his heart, that
not even sickness, in its most trying form, could
alter his feelings.
In 1802 Mr. (TConnell married a distant rela-
tive of his own, Mary, daughter of Edward
O'Connell, M.D., of Tralee, making what is called
a " love-match, n and setting aside all worldly or
prudential considerations, for his choice had but
a very small fortune, and his uncle was anxious
to have him married to some well-dowered lady.
L 2
BRIEF MEMOIR OF
This union was one of the tenderest affection,
ensuring both a " life of happy years," until 1836,
when Mrs. CTConnell died at Darrynane. She
was a devoted wife and mother, a kind friend,
and deeply and deservedly regretted; she left
seven children — four sons and three daughters.
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 221
CHAPTER XXIIL
BRIEF MEMOIR OF DANIEL o'cONNELL, CONTINUED.
On neither Mr. O'ConnelFs early nor later
struggles in the legal or political world shall I
attempt to dwell. From the very commencement
his success at the bar was great, and I was told
by one who saw his fee-book, that even during
the first years, when young barristers rarely even
hold a brief, he was making an independence by
his profession ; and his political success was, in-
deed, unprecedented.
The following passage strikes me as very
forcible, and very true. I read it lately in a
little book published 'in Paris, in 1847, and merely
styled " Llrlande."
Speaking of O'Connell, the author writes :
" Cet homme remarquable par Tassemblage de
beaucoup de qualites eminent es et dont la re-
union est singulierement rare, etait aussi supe-
rieur dans ses ecrits et ses harangues que dans
Taction ou la prudence du conseil. Sans glaive
222 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
ni armee CTConnell s'etait, pour ainsi dire, assure
la royaute de lTrlande, et a ete a la fois son
avocat, son tribun, son general, et son Sauveur.
Les pauvres, les opprimes l'ont toujours trouve
pret a les defendre, et le secret de cette puis-
sance sans example dans Fhistoire, qu' CTConnell
s'est acquise sur lTrlande, etait fonde sur le merite
qu'il eut d'avoir adopte la protection de sept
millions d'hommes qui souffrent et dont la misere
est une injustice."
Mr. CTConnelFs first political speech was in
January, 1800, against the then proposed measure
of the Union between Great Britain and Ireland ;
and forty-seven years later, in January, 1847,
his last speech in Ireland was against that mea-
sure— a lesson this of consistency to changeable
politicians.
Those who know anything of Irish history,
will recollect how almost hopeless was the state
of the Irish Catholic when the first humble meet-
ing of the Catholic Association came together in
October, 1823, and how that Association spread
and prospered.
The year 1828 was memorable for the Clare
election, when CTConnell was returned member,
the first Catholic M.P. since the days of James
II. ; and the year following saw Catholic emanci-
pation.
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 223
The Catholic Relief Bill received the royal
assent the 13th of April, 1829, and on the 15th
of May CVConnell was introduced in the House
of Commons by Lord Duncannon, as member for
Clare.
The Speaker refused allowing him to take only
the Catholic oath, as his election had been before
the passing of the bill ; on the 19th of the same
month he appeared at the bar of the House, and
I have often heard that the scene was most ex-
citing on his appearance there that day.
The oath of supremacy was tendered to him,
and, on reading it through, he distinctly gave
his opinion on it. I quote his words on the oc-
casion, a very popular little print recording the
event, making them long familiar :
" I see in this oath one assertion as a matter
of fact, which I know is not true ; and I see in
it another assertion as a matter of opinion, which
I believe is not true. I therefore refuse to take
this oath."
A new election for Clare followed, when he
was returned triumphantly. An eye-witness of
that election has told me that nothing could equal
the wild enthusiasm of the people ; their feelings
of patriotism had lain dormant, not died within
them ; this election had aroused it with national
ardour, and it blazed forth until famine and
224 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
misery had done their work, and left us a broken-
spirited people.
A little anecdote, among many, of the en-
thusiasm of the peasantry, though trifling, I shall
record* the carriage in which was Mr. O'Connell,
was approaching Ennis, and the crowd was accu-
mulating round it, men, women, and children,
cheering lustily as they waved green boughs. A
poor elderly woman working in her cabbage-gar-
den threw down her spade when she recognised
it, and looking eagerly about her for something
green to wave too in honour of " the Liberator,"
seized on a large bunch of nettles, and flourishing
them joyfully above her head, she ran forward
and joined the throng around the carriage, shout-
ing vehemently, " Long life to O'Connell, the
man of the people."
Through all the efforts of his political career,
I must not follow him ; for me it is sufficient
to say that O'Connell was ever the uncompro-
mising friend of civil and religious liberty for all ;
that he was a strenuous advocate for the emanci-
pation of the slave, and an opposer of the New
Poor Law.
How very many now, whose income has gra-
dually dwindled to a mere name, will own his
wisdom in so doing, and that he knew the country
and its resources well.
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 225
O'Connell was essentially an Irishman, in
thought, and word, and deed, true to his creed
and his country. Of the unbounded influence he
possessed over the hearts and minds of the great
majority of his countrymen, the wondrous mon-
ster meetings, with the profound peace of their
assembled tens of thousands, in a land too pro-
verbial for internecine quarrels, best tell. Yes !
he was untiring in his wishes and efforts for the
improvement of his country.
Let those who loved, and then hated, who
trusted and praised, and then basely turned upon
and defamed the worn-out old man, remember
that for that country O'Connell refused office and
title, and for that country he died.
To the censurers of the " Tribute," so misun-
derstood, so condemned, I think the best reply is
in Mr. O'Connell's own pamphlet, " A Meek and
Modest Reply to Lord Shrewsbury," published in
1842. I believe no monarch ever received as
willing a " tribute " from his subjects, and I
know that of public money so much never was
returned for the public benefit.
Turn we now to another picture — the end of
all O'ConnelFs anxieties and struggles. On Mon-
day evening, January 28th, 1847, he left Kings-
town for London, to attend Parliament, never to
L 5
226 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
return to Ireland; his health, so long robust, had
begun to fail, and gave much uneasiness to his
family.
On the 6th March, by the advice of physicians,
he went to Hastings, and on the 22nd of the same
month, he crossed from Folkestone to Boulogne
for a continental tour, accompanied by his friend
and chaplain, the Very Reverend Dr. Miley, and
his youngest son, Daniel.
It was hoped that complete change of air and
scene, with the absence of all political excitement,
would speedily restore his health, but it was not
to be so, for the fatal malady was at work within
him.
The travellers rested some days in Paris at the
Hotel Windsor, Rue de Rivoli, and were there
paid every mark of the deepest respect.
On the Sunday, March 27th, the members of
the Electoral Committee instituted for the defence
of Religious Freedom, waited on Mr. O'Connell,
and the distinguished president of it, Comte de
Montalembert, read to him an address of congra-
tulations, and of their sincere sympathy ; to which
he briefly replied ; " Gentlemen, sickness and
emotion close my mouth. I would require the
eloquence of your president to express to you all
my gratitude, but it is impossible for me to say
all I feel. Know simply that I regard this de-
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 227
monstration on your part as one of the most sig-
nificant events of my ]ife.,,
Next day he left Paris for Orleans, the hotel,
up to the moment of his departure, was crowded
with visitors, many of whom he was obliged, from
the weakened state of his health, to refuse to
see.
On hearing M. de Berryer announced, he begged
to see him, for he felt an earnest warm admira-
tion for this devoted adherent of the Comte de
Chambord. As he came to him, Mr. O'Connell
cordially took his hand, telling him, " He could
not resist the satisfaction of pressing it within his
own." M. de Berryer, deeply moved, said, uJe
viens vous exprimer mon profond respect, et toute
mon admiration. "
By easy stages and with several stops, en route,
the travellers reached Genoa on the 6th May, the
accounts of the patient's amending health, as he
went southward, filling his absent friends with
hope, and full himself of anxiety to reach the
Eternal City. But here death called him away
after some days of suffering borne without a
murmur.
Strong in the perfect resignation and trust of a
Christian, surrounded by all the consolations of
religion, his sinking voice struggling to utter
prayers, died Daniel O'Connell, on the 15th May,
228 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
1847, closing an agitated and troubled life, by a
death beautifully calm as an infant's sleep.
The body was embalmed, and on the 19th
conveyed to the parochial church, Delia Vigne,
where the obsequies were performed, and where
it lay in state until it was conveyed to Ireland.
The heart was put into an urn, bearing this
inscription : — " Daniel O'Connell, natus Kerry,
obiit Genua?, die 15 Maii, 1847, setatis sua?
ann. Ixxii." It was carried to Rome by Daniel
CConnell and Dr. Miley, and deposited in the
church of San Andrea della Valle, where it
remains.
Those who know how devoted that heart was
to Ireland, will regret with me that its last rest-
ing-place is away from that country.
In Rome, on the 28th and 30th of June, were
celebrated, with a princely magnificence, his
solemn obsequies. The whole services were
solemnized by the express command of His
Holiness, Pius IX., who desired to pay the
highest tribute in his power to the "hero of
Christianity,''1 as he styled O'Connell. The funeral
oration was delivered by the famed preacher,
Padre Ventura, and was pronounced a master-
piece of eloquence.
August the 2nd, the remains of Daniel O'Connell
were brought to Ireland, and most mournful was
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 229
the universal homage paid to all that was left of
him who had loved that country so tenderly !
The immense funeral-procession from the steamer
to the metropolitan church, Marlborough-street,
was sad and impressive beyond expression. Sobs
and tears replaced the joyous cheers of other
days.
On the 3rd, the most striking ceremonial of the
Catholic Church, the solemn Requiem Mass, was
celebrated, and the funeral oration pronounced by
Dr. Miley. On the next day, the body was
borne to its resting-place in Glasnevin Cemetery,
attended by mourning thousands, paying a solemn
and grateful tribute to departed worth ; and,
amid the most heartfelt wailings, the coffin was
laid in the vault.
The final prayers of the burial-service were said
— and all the pageants of this world had passed
away for Daniel O'Connell.
How vividly the well-known face and form of
the departed " Liberator " come now before me !
The tall portly figure, with its vigorous bearing,
the florid complexion, the clear blue eye, now
beaming with tenderness, now shining with gaiety ;
but it was the mouth that expressed so much —
at one moment the intensity of contempt, the
next the playful pleasantry — and a change again,
for the saddest smile, has succeeded.
230 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
Among the various newspaper paragraphs on.
Mr. O'ConnelFs death, I think the two following,
from French newspapers, the best worthy of
record. The first is from the Univers.
" CTConnell is dead, at the height of grief, as
at the height of glory, harassed by the ungrateful
conduct of some of those whom he saved, but still
less troubled by their ingratitude than frightened
by their folly. On leaving Ireland he saw other
adversaries of his designs, other enemies of Ire-
land, than those he vanquished. This is not the
moment to explain who these Irishmen are, and
what they desire, who feared not to hate and insult
CTConnell dying in the midst of the world's re-
spect ; but no one is ignorant that, restrained by his
hand to the last moment, they made him contem-
plate with dread the death which approached to
deliver them, hastened by their impious hope.
That was the secret, too easy, alas ! to penetrate,
of the august sadness which was imprinted on his
features, and which wrung us with grief during the
few moments that we saw and heard him. His
manly heart succumbed in the agony which the
future inspired. The famine afflicted him, but
Young Ireland would have driven him to despair.
To strengthen himself against such alarms, all the
energy of sentiment, which with him was the
spring of his glorious life, was not too much ; he
DANIEL O'CONNELL. 231
prayed, he confided himself to God
Let us remember that what he has done for the
Irish Catholics, he has done for all Catholic
nations. His rights to our gratitude are not less
numerous than his titles to our admiration ."
The second extract I give is from the Consti-
tutionnel : —
" The hopes which had been conceived of the
recovery of Mr. O'Connell, have been cruelly dis-
appointed. The great orator had scarcely arrived
at Genoa, when he felt himself mortally attacked,
and was the first to declare that he had only three
days to live The death of such a man
would have been an important event at any period ;
but in the "present difficult situation of England,
and with the famine which desolates Ireland, the
disappearance of the Liberator acquires extreme
importance."
I shall conclude this brief sketch of Daniel
CTConnelFs life, by the panegyric pronounced upon
him by Mr. Shiel, in the House of Commons,
June 28th:—
" I shall be glad," said Mr. Shiel, " if, when
Parliament is approaching to its close, it shall
make a testamentary manifestation of good will
to the people of Ireland, indicative of the policy
by which the government of the noble individual
should be sustained who has had the courage to
232 BRIEF MEMOIR OF
undertake the administration of Ireland. That
ahle and sagacious statesman will have great diffi-
culties to encounter — difficulties which have been
enhanced by the death of the celebrated man to
whom the noble lord opposite " (Lord George
Bentinck) " alluded in the course of these discus-
sions— the man to whom his country owes incal-
culable obligations, and to whom hereafter, when
the passions and prejudices, the antipathies and
the predilections of the hour shall have passed
away, in the impartial adjudication of those who
shall come after us, the attributes of greatness,
political and intellectual, will be beyond doubt
assigned. Whatever opinion may be entertained
of his title to the veneration of his 'country, in
an assembly composed like that which I am now
addressing, it must be admitted, by those who
were in the sternest antagonism to him while he
lived, that the renowned Irishman effected his
achievements by a great mental instrumentality ;
and I trust that the time will never arrive when
English statesmen will have cause to lament that
the voice by which millions of men were at once
excited or controlled is heard no more, and that
the accents on which a nation hung in rapture,
and a senate in admiration, are hushed in the
grave for ever. Would that he had been spared
to his country — would that he had lived to behold
DANIEL O'CONNELL. %33
the seat of that ancient and perpetual faith, of
which he was a firm and humble believer, and of
which he was the proud and chivalrous champion —
that he had lived to behold the Eternal City — that
he had knelt down at the altar of the greatest
temple which was ever raised by the hands of
man, worthy of the purposes, the high and holy
ones, to which it was devoted ; and that through
the marble halls of the Vatican, the venerable
man, although with feeble and tottering steps, had
found his way, amidst the array of sacerdotal
pomp, to receive the salutation of the great
Pontifical Reformer, who has ascended the chair
of St. Peter amidst the acclamations of the world ;
and would that, after the performance of that
pilgrimage, the illustrious Irishman could have
returned to the country of his birth, and which
he set free, in order to renew the injunctions never
to infringe the principles on which he acted all his
life, and of the violation of which he was never
rightfully accused. I am conscious that I have
departed from the more immediate question before
the house, but I, who have now so seldom a
justification for interfering in your discussions,
shall be pardoned if I have availed myself of this
the first occasion whioh has presented itself to me,
to ofTer a mournful but unavailing tribute of com-
memoration to the memory of the man with whom
234 MEMOIR OF DANIEL O'CONNELL.
I was for so many years politically associated, and
whose departure from the great scene in which he
performed a part which attracted the attention of
mankind, I regret as a disaster which it will
require great wisdom and fortitude, and the spirit
of conciliation, by which the policy on this measure
is founded, to countervail."
VOYAGE TO CORK. 235
CHAPTER XXIV.
VOYAGE TO CORK. — THE QUEEN'S VISIT TO CORK. CONFUSION
ON HER UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL. — THE BEGGARS AND VAGRANTS
COULD NOT BE KEPT OUT OF SIGHT. THE SHANDON BELLS.
— CORK, " THE BEAUTIFUL CITY." — QUEEN's COLLEGE, CORK.
— REFLECTIONS ON THE " GODLESS COLLEGES." QUAYS OF
CORK. — EMIGRATING VESSELS. — LAMENTATIONS AT LEAVING
HOME.
Cork, July, 1850.
The grey mists of morning still enveloped the
land as I came on the deck of the Bristol packet,
and anxiously tried to make out if the leaden line
in the distance was Ireland. On we steamed and
the mists dispersed, and a glorious sunrise came,
and we entered the fine harbour of Cork having
Carlisle and Camden forts on each side, and lying
before us the prettily situated town of Cove,
loyally called Queenstown since her Majesty
landed there in August last year.
We pass by the quay on which a queen first
touched Irish soil, and her Majesty is not likely
to forget the welcome her presence called forth ;
yet she could scarcely judge it as a genuine Irish
236 UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL
welcome, for famine and pestilence and poverty
had deadened the enthusiasm of the national cha-
racter, and the cead mille failte that waved over
the arches and spoke in the subdued huzzas was a
very faint echo of the Irish welcomes of brighter
days.
The royal squadron entered Cork harbour at
the dawn of day, Friday, August 3rd, just twelve
hours before it was expected ; the Queen thus
gracefully reversing the usual mode of treating
Ireland by advancing instead of withholding a
boon to her.
The entire of the " beautiful city " of Cork was
thrown into confusion by this unexpected arrival.
Half the preparations for the entry of her Majesty
were unfinished, arches still exhibited bare pillar-
shafts, piles of evergreens and banners lay about,
the civic authorities were in despair, but their dis-
may was trifling compared to that of many of the
fairer portions of the population, to whom tardy
dressmakers and milliners had not as yet sent
finery requisite for the occasion.
What was to be done ? A deputation, headed
by the Mayor, steamed down the river, and was
received on board the royal yacht by the Home
Secretary, who announced that her Majesty was
then reposing and could not be disturbed, but
OF THE QUEEN. 237
assured them that her Majesty said she would
land at two o'clock, and that her Majesty never
changed her plans ; so the deputation had only to
steam away again, and to endeavour to apply a
little of it to the workmen's exertions, to hustle
on their robes of office, and to be ready at
the Custom-house quay to receive the Queen.
And come her Majesty did with her usual
punctuality.
A bright beautiful afternoon, the sun gleaming
on the rich woods and waters from a clear blue
sky : there was nothing then in the picture to tell
of the miseries the same sun had shone on during
the rounds of the past years.
I have often thought it was an especial blessing
that the Queen came unexpectedly to Ireland, for
in her transit through the city of Cork she saw,
with her own eyes, evidences of that poverty she
had heard of. Had there been the inclination
there was no time to keep the wretched beggars
and vagrants out of sight of her Majesty's path.
It was said the experiment was tried on her visit
to the Duke of Leinster at Carton, her only
glimpse at the interior of the country, when care
was taken that nothing unpleasant should meet
the royal eye.
But in Cork unmistakable signs of poverty were
238 THE SHANDON BELLS.
visible : the poorer classes were in their working
clothes, the very thin attendance of people al-
lowed the striking poverty of, alas ! the many to
appear, and more than one gaunt spectre-like
mother, with a famishing child in her arms, gazed
on the pageant as it passed, and was seen and
remarked upon by the Queen.
I remember seeing a number of the " Charivari11
after the Queers visit, in which her passage was
represented as lined with policemen, with long-
tailed coats, who kept them spread open to hide
the beggars crouching behind them.
Our steamer lands in Cork on the Sabbath
morning, and sweet bells are tolling around, re-
minding us of the day, and bringing to my mind
those pretty lines of the Rev. F. Mahony : —
THE SHANDON BELLS.
Sabbata pango,
Funera plango,
Solemnia clango.
Inscription on an Old Bell.
With deep affection,
And recollection,
I often think of
Those Shandon bells,
Whose sounds so wild would
In the days of childhood
Fling round my cradle
Their magic spells.
THE SHANDON BELLS. 239
On this I ponder,
Where'er I wander,
And thus grow fonder,
Sweet Cork, of thee ;
With thy bells of Shandon,
That sound so grand on,
The pleasant waters
Of the river Lee.
I've heard bells chiming
Full many a clime in,
Tolling sublime in
Cathedral shrine,
While at a glib rate
Brass tongues would vibrate.
But all their music
Spoke nought like thine ;
For memory dwelling,
On each proud swelling
Of thy belfry knelling
Its bold notes free,
Made the bells of Shandon
Sound far more grand on
The pleasant waters
Of the river Lee.
I 've heard bells tolling
Old "Adrian's Mole," in
Their thunder rolling
From the Vatican ;
And cymbals glorious,
Swinging uproarious,
In the gorgeous turrets
Of Notre Dame ;
But thy sounds were sweeter
Than the dome of Peter
240 GODLESS COLLEGES.
Flings o'er the Tiber,
Pealing solemnly ;
0 ! the bells of Shandon
Sound far more grand on
The pleasant waters
Of the river Lee.
There 's a bell in Moscow,
While on tower and Kiosko !
In Saint Sophia
The Turkman gets,
And loud in air
Calls men to prayer
From the tapering summit
Of tall minarets.
Such empty phantom
1 freely grant them ;
But there is an anthem
More dear to me,
'Tis the bells of Shandon
That sound so grand on
The pleasant waters
Of the river Lee !
Cork is the second city in Ireland, and deserves
its name of the " beautiful city," not from the
beauty of its streets, but from its situation in the
centre of a valley, and the hills that rise around
it, covered as they are with woods, and pretty
villas peeping amid them. The town is mostly
built upon marshy ground, as its Irish name
denotes, and it is a place of very considerable
commerce.
THE " GODLESS COLLEGES." 241
Here we have one of the Queen's colleges, a
fine gothic building, placed in a well chosen
situation ; and if we may judge from the number
of its present students it is in a flourishing con-
dition.
Of course, in true Irish style, there are two par-
ties on the question of the " godless colleges," —
the one upholding them as a national blessing,
judging that a first-rate education being placed
within the reach of the middle classes, is, indeed,
a boon to be grateful for, — the other as strenu-
ously condemning them as a national grievance,
and foretelling that in them the germ of infidelity
will be sown to spring up in unbelief in the rising
ofeneration.
But while one party approves, and the other
condemns, the Queen's colleges are gaining ground
in public opinion. Let us hope that the mother
does not send her son to a college to learn his
religion, that its early and uneffaceable impressions
have been made on his young mind, that the sweet
influences of home are with him in his studies,
and the noble influences of religion teach him fra-
ternal charity towards those around him, who
may not be of his creed, and that the rising gene-
ration may, still strong in faith, have learned to
hate intolerance.
We pass along the quays of Cork, and ships of
M
242 LAMENTATIONS AT LEAVING HOME.
various nations attract our attention. Here is a
ship from Riga, another from Trieste, and several
from America, all laden with corn, and on one
side is a pleasant scene of labour, and the free-
trader, the conscientious lover of cheap bread,
will bless the law that brings food to starving
thousands.
But turn we aside by those large American
ships that have discharged their cargo, and we see
a different scene — there is a reverse to every pic-
ture. Seated on a low straw chair (one of the
household gods) is a very old woman, and around
her are men and women in the vigour of youth
and health, and sturdy children, all busy among
piles of luggage, for they are all about to emigrate.
On addressing the old woman she tells us :
" I Ve no English ;" and except these words she
can say nothing more in that language. The
tears course down her cheeks as in her native
tongue she laments the home she is leaving, and
having to lay her bones in a strange country : we
leave her children comforting her.
Pass on and group after group arrests our
attention, there are tearful eyes, and helplessly
dejected looks among them, but, thank God, there
is hope shining in some honest eyes, telling of joy
to meet absent kindred again, and of firm resolve
to earn comfort in their new homes.
LAMENTATIONS AT LEAVING HOME. 243
And what can we do but, in wishing them all
a happier fate in the land of their adoption, sigh
that in the beautiful land of their birth some
remedy has not yet been found by the legislature,
to check the immense flow of emigration, and
enable the industrious to earn their livelihood at
home.
M 2
244 POVERTY IN IRELAND.
CHAPTER XXV.
POVERTY IN IRELAND. THE RICH BECOME POOR. MELAN-
CHOLY EFFECTS OF THE POTATO BLIGHT. FATE OF MANY
FARMERS AND LANDED PROPRIETORS. IRISH WANT OF
FORETHOUGHT. INSTANCES. IRELAND NOW IN A TRANSI-
TION STATE. CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS IN CORK. LADIES'
CLOTHING SOCIETY. — INSTANCES OF ITS BENEFITS. THE
POOR WEAVER.
A change has indeed come over the Ireland
of 1844, and the merry, reckless, national cha-
racter has been crushed and altered by the years
of trial that have gone by.
We know that even in the days of Ireland's
prosperity, when Nature's blessings were so plen-
tifully lavished on her, the Irish peasant was
many degrees worse fed, clothed, and housed than
the peasants of any other European country, and,
as can easily be believed, the recent struggles
have not improved his social condition.
Not only are the poor of Ireland miserably
EFFECTS OF THE POTATO BLIGHT. 245
poor still, but the hitherto rich have become
poor ; many a cabin along the wayside is levelled
to the ground, its former owners inmates of a
workhouse, a grave, or emigrated to America ;
and most melancholy it is to see the fields
around these ruined dwellings now lying waste,
and thistles and docks and rag- weed growing
luxuriantly where food for man ought to
flourish.
I heard of a farmer in the county of Cork who
held a valuable farm under a long and fair lease ;
he had prospered in life, had a sum of money in
the bank, and had besides, what a farmer looks on
as wealth — three sons, strong, active young men,
to aid him in his business.
The year 1847, with its attendant evils came,
his potato-fields lay blackened with the fatal
blight, and famine and pestilence stalked through
the land. The father struggled bravely through
that year, paid up his rent, and the spring of
1848 found his savings gone, and in 1849 he was
barely able, on selling his stock, to emigrate with
his family to America, where the sons till a
grateful soil.
This was a case of voluntary emigration. Alas !
in the pages of the past years how many dark
records are there of cruel ejection of tenants.
246 IRISH WANT OF FORETHOUGHT.
of starving poor, first rack-rented, and then evicted
without mercy, some dying under the hedgerows,
others creeping to the poor-houses, and the more
fortunate leaving the country ?
But the fate of many of the landed proprietors
calls, too, for our sympathy.
" Their pleasant hearths are desolate,
Their bright fires quenched and gone."
The quiet country homes, which seemed too peace-
ful to have sorrow intrude there — the magnificent
homes, guarded by fitting fortunes, both dispensing
alike generous hospitality, have been severed from
their former occupants, and if they have not yet
changed owners, are about doing so in the En-
cumbered Estates Court, the late proprietors
forced absentees, or living in comparative poverty
at home.
Some were kind, good landlords, and deserved
a better fate ; others, alas ! on whom only a just
retribution has fallen, were selfish and hard-
hearted ; distress has come upon both, and the
cheerful homes are now silent and deserted.
Pleasure-seekers, as they flit from place to
place, and see everywhere around them these
marks that " we 're fallen on gloomy days," in-
voluntarily ask, " Is not the proverbial Irish want
FATE OF LANDED PROPRIETORS. 247
of forethought the chief cause of this decay?
Why should the gentry live beyond their in-
comes? Why not make some wise provision to
pay off their debts ? "
I am not going to attempt either an apology
or a defence for this grievous state of things — I
state a fact or two.
A gentleman, having a landed estate with a
rental of twelve hundred pounds per annum,
owed incumbrances to the amount of ten thousand
pounds ; paying five per cent, interest on this sum
left him seven hundred pounds per annum ; 1847
and 1848 came — his tenants could not pay their
rents, he could not pay his interest money, poor-
rates in his Union rose to seven and eight shil-
lings in the pound, and 1849 saw his estates
sold among the encumbered estates, leaving a
residue to the owner, above law expenses, of
eighteen hundred pounds !
Another gentleman, having a nominal rental
of between six and seven thousand pounds a year,
owed family debts of his father and grandfather
— not one of his own — amounting to half the value
of his estate; the bad times prevented interest-
money being paid, therefore his property was set
up for sale, and sold at an average for twelve
years1 purchase.
248 LADIES1 CLOTHING SOCIETY.
Ireland is changing masters, she is now in a
transition state, and it will take years and years
to bring back even the prosperity of five years
since.
The great number of charitable institutions in
Cork may surprise any one unacquainted with the
proverbial charity exercised in this " faire citie,"
and it seemed to me that there was no end of
charity sermons, and subscriptions, and bazaars
and lotteries, for the poor of the town.
Prominent among the charities of Cork is
the Ladies' Clothing Society, most admirable in
its efforts to relieve materially and judiciously
many starving families by giving them employ-
ment, and an immediate and fair remuneration for
their work.
In 1846, a few zealous ladies (God bless them !)
met together and organized their society; their
beginning was weak, but the society rapidly in-
creased and prospered. Each lady gave a small
monthly subscription towards the funds, and her
time and work, to cut out and make up the
clothing for the poor. In the crowded lanes and
back alleys of their city hundreds of weavers wore
away their lives in hopeless poverty ; willing to
work, but having none to employ them ; some
had known better days, and shuddered at leaving
INSTANCES OF ITS BENEFITS. 249
their humble garrets for the painful relief of a
crowded poor house.
At first, the Ladies' Society gave very small
orders for ginghams and calicoes, and flannels ;
and these were given to the poor, or sold for
them to the charitably disposed. Larger orders
succeeded, the qualities of the manufactured goods
improved, and the Cork ladies liberally patronised
their home manufacture, and every second lady
now wears Blackpool ginghams, and to my eyes,
looks better in that simple dress, which gives
bread to famishing sufferers than in the most
costly silks from foreign looms.
This society forcibly illustrates the blessed re-
sults of teaching the poor to support themselves
by honest industry, and last year by its exertions
three hundred heads of families were kept out of
the work-house.
I was told the, alas ! too common tale of a
poor weaver, an industrious hard-working man,
who while he got work, supported his family in
honest independence, and occupied with them two
good airy rooms in a house at the outskirts of
the city ; patterns of cleanliness were the humble
home, and its inmates. But a few months of
helpless idleness changed its aspect ; by degrees
every article of furniture was sold to keep off
m 5
250 THE POOR WEAVER.
starvation, the any rooms exchanged for a miser-
able garret, and here, languishing in the full bit-
terness of poverty, the weaver dragged on life
for weary months. He was too decent to beg,
and too independent a spirit to seek the poor-
house.
A morning and a night came, and saw him
rise from his bed of straw, and return to it with-
out tasting food. His own hunger he could bear,
but that of his wife and family was insupport-
able, and he crawled with them down stairs, de-
termined now to hide from this maddening want
in the poor-house.
As they descended the dark stairs he tried to
speak comfort to his sobbing wife ; better times
might come, he said, and work return to them,
and he told her to remember the beautiful old Irish
proverb, that " the darkest hour of all, is the
hour before day.1'
Ascending those same stairs on their mission of
charity were two of the brotherhood of St. Vin-
cent de Paule, those " ministering angels," who
amid the prosperities of happy homes remember
how many are homeless, and who, free from all
sectarian bigotry, extend a helping hand alike to
all creeds ; the true personification in their lives
of Christian charity.
THE POOR WEAVER. 251
Immediate relief was given to the poor family ;
they were saved from the poor-house ; the Ladies'
Society furnished ample employment, and they
are back again in their former home, where every
morning and night they pray God to bless the
promoters and supporters of native manufacture.
25£ NEIGHBOURHOOD OF CORK.
CHAPTER XXVI.
NEIGHBOURHOOD OF CORK. PASSAGE RAILWAY. — RESULT OF
LATE FAILURES IN CORK. URSULINE CONVENT. — CASTLE OF
BLACKROCK. QUEENSTOWN. — CARLISLE FORT. — ROSSTELLAN
CASTLE. — FAMILY RECORD OF LADY THOMOND. INSPECTION
OF QUEENSTOWN. CARRIGROHANE CASTLE. OWNER OF
BLARNEY. BLARNEY CASTLE. KISSING THE " RLARNEY
STONE." — COLD-WATER CURE ESTABLISHMENT. BARRYSCOURT
CASTLE. — KING JAMES II. — FOOTY. CASTLE-MARTYR.
ROUND TOWER AND CATHEDRAL AT CLOYNE.
Cork has many beauties in its neighbourhood,
well worth the inspection of the tourist, and one
sunshiny Thursday forenoon we come on board a
river steamer, bound for Queenstown, determined
to visit those within our reach.
No signs of the times are visible among the
gaily-dressed lady portion of the crew seated under
an awning on deck, for here are smart bonnets and
feathers and flowers eDough to set up half-a-dozen
milliners in thriving business.
It is difficult to find seats in this crowded space,
for three or four pic-nic parties are on board on
" pleasure bent," and they have not " frugal
CASTLE OF BLACKROCK. 253
minds," if we may judge from the size and num-
ber of the baskets of provisions.
At length we are off, and our band, consisting
of four very faded musicians, strikes up " The
Light of other Days."
Passing down the river we quickly clear the
shipping, and here, on our right side, is the Pas-
sage Railway, and a tiny train just puffing alon»
it, disappears into the Blackrock cutting. On
our left rises the noble hill of Glanmire, covered
with terraces and villas, many bearing the omi-
nous " To be Let," telling of poverty or ab-
senteeism.
Some of those country seats of the citizen mer-
chants have recently changed owners, for Cork,
in the late trying years, witnessed some extensive
failures.
On the right lies the Ursuline Convent, well
known in Ireland for the admirable system of
education carried out by its inmates for young
girls, rich and poor, and known to the legal world,
for their late unpleasant law case w McCarthy v.
Fulham."
Beyond this is the pretty Castle of Blackrock,
and then the river widens into a lake, and nar-
rows again as we reach the town of Passage.
There are pretty Turkish-looking baths, more
villas and terraces, and the steamer stops at
254 FAMILY RECORD OF LADY THOMOND.
Monkstown. Leaving this, and some of the
pie-nickers, we steam across to Queenstown, the
whole population of which seem to have come out
on the quays to welcome us.
Here an excellent four-oared whale-boat is
readily obtained, at a very reasonable price by
the hour, and this brings us across the harbour,
the waters so beautifully calm, by Spike Island,
the new convict depot, to the Carrigaline river.
One little spot brings a memory of Killarney,
but the glorious mountains are wanting. We
land, and ramble about the very fine demesne of
Coolmore.
We next ascend to Carlisle Fort, from the ram-
parts of which we get a very magnificent sea-
view, and descending to our boat, and coasting by
charming demesnes we come to Rosstellan Castle,
the beautiful, but deserted residence of the Mar-
quis of Thomond, which is for sale. Willingly
to sell such a residence, as I am told the noble
proprietor wishes to do, does not speak much
for his taste. The house is an odd pile of build-
ing, the situation very lonely, and there are very
fine fruit gardens, and sweet flower grounds, and
most romantic rural walks, everything to make a
" sweet, sweet home."
An old family record tells of a Lady Thomond,
who was deaf and dumb, and who after the birth
INSPECTION OF QUEENSTOWN. %55
of her first-born, was observed to sit for hours
watching intently every motion of its little face.
One day the nurse saw her steal on tiptoe to the
side of the baby's cradle, and great was her terror
and dismay to see the mother raise her hands,
which held a huge stone, over the sleeping child.
She rushed to stop the fatal act, but before she
could reach the spot, the stone had been thrown
with violence to the ground. The noise frightened
the baby, who, suddenly awakened from sleep,
cried lustily, the mother with sobs and tears,
snatched him to her arms, and loaded him with
kisses. Her experiment had succeeded, and she
had ascertained, beyond a doubt, that her boy was
saved from her dreadful affliction.
Onwards from Rosstellan we rowed up the
East Ferry : here on the left, is another fine re-
sidence to be let or sold.
We ended the day by an inspection of Queens-
town, dined there, and returned to Cork, not as
we had come ; for, as M remarked, life is
too short to follow twice the same route, but by
a drive to Carrigaloe Ferry ; a short voyage across
the quiet waters rippling in the silvery moon-
beams, and on to Cork by the well-chosen new
line of railway from Passage.
They were lighting the lamps as the train
emerged from the cutting at Blackrock, which
256 OWNER OF BLARNEY.
gleamed and twinkled in the river with a very
pretty effect.
No tourist can think of leaving Cork without
kissing the " Blarney stone." A pleasant drive
by the banks of the river Lee brings us opposite
Carrigrohane Castle, which is not " To be Let,"11
but is being fitted up as a residence by the pro-
prietor in a spirit worthy of more prosperous
times, and the arrangements of its rooms are
everything a lover of comfort could desire.
We leave the Lee., and come through a wooded
valley, and up a steep hill in view of the " Groves
of Blarney ." There are the placid lake, the old
castle, the rich woods, and better than all to
look on these bad times, there are crowds of
busy labourers in the fields, showing in the
luxuriant crops of that well-planned and exten-
sive farm, that their labour has not been un-
productive.
Would that there were many of the same class
in Ireland, as the owner of Blarney! He gives fair
wages, immense local employment, is daily among
his labourers, and in the autumn he will bring
them all together in a pleasant and substantial
" harvest home." As we wander through the
" sweet rack-close," and by the shores of the
lake, we wish Mr. Jeffreyes success in his under-
takings.
COLD-WATER CURE ESTABLISHMENT. 257
Blarney Castle is full of interest; being an
ancient possession of the family of McCarthy ; it
was besieged by Cromwell, against whom it held
out for some time, but the song says —
" Oliver Cromwell, he did it pommell,
And made a breach in the battlement."
The top of the castle gained, the guide shows
you the " Blarney stone " snugly imbedded in
fresh water, in a most come-at-able position —
the credulous may bend down and kiss it, they
will find no effect from the act ; for the real
" stone" is in a more dangerous position, below
the battlement.
" On the top of the wall, but take care you don't fall,
There 's a stone that contains this same Blarney."
Opposite to the demesne of Blarney, on the hill
side, is an extensive cold-water cure establishment,
the situation of which is delightful, and the water
undeniably good. I have known many try this
system, and for various diseases. Some found
their health improved on the first trial — the change
of air, the regular hours, the exercise, and, above
all, faith in their cure, did wonders — but I have
never known a radical cure. There were relapses,
and, consequently, a perfect purgatory on earth,
though not " tried by fire,11 of wet sheets, and
258 KING JAMES II.
plunge-baths, and shower-baths, and baths of all
kinds ad infinitum, and draughts of cold water
ad libitum, and milk and water for breakfast —
and the term aptly applies to the more solid food
allowed for dinner — and this course to be kept up
to ward off the disease generally for a time.
Can a reasonable enlightened person give their
unqualified reliance to a system that professes to
cure alike the violent attacks of gout in that fat
bloated man, and the wearing pains in the chest
and side of that pale slight girl threatened with
consumption ?
A watchful Providence has blessed the earth
with herbs and roots and plants, and shall we
doubt that these are useful, or neglect to be
grateful for them ? Judicious medical treatment
has certainly effected cures, and at least while
we are still strong in the blessing of health, we
will trust in its efficacy.
Another day's country excursion took us to
visit the pretty town and demesne of Castle-
martyr. The drive from Cork to Middleton, of
twelve miles, was through a succession of gentle-
men's handsome residences. We turned aside' to
visit the old castle of Barryscourt, in the great
hall of which is a fine old chimney-piece bearing
the date 1588.
ROUND TOWER AND CATHEDRAL. 259
King James the Second, after his last disastrous
battle at the Boyne, it is said, came here; but
if he did, we may be sure he did not tarry long,
being in a very unkingly hurry in those days to
turn his back on the loyal subjects that had so
devotedly fought for his cause. How strange
that a king, in youth so brave, should, in his
later years, prove himself such a coward !
The lands of Barryscourt are in high culti-
vation, showing another pleasant picture of local
employment given by the proprietor.
Adjoining this demesne is Footy, the owner of
which is an absentee, living at a place of his in
Cheshire.
Castlemartyr, in its thriving neatness, brings
before us the beneficial effects of a resident pro-
prietor. The demesne, adjoining the village, has
been kept in beautiful order, thereby giving em-
ployment weekly to numerous labourers. Some
years since there was a first-rate kennel here, and
the Castlemartyr hunt was famous through the
country ; but the pack is broken up, and the noble
proprietor only one among the many that severely
feels the pressure of the times.
On to Cloyne from Castlemartyr, to see the
Round Tower and Cathedral. The ascent up the
first-named, by seven of the steepest of ladders,
260 RETURN TO CORK.
brings us to a beautiful view of the sea, and
well-cultivated country lying around, and for
some days, at least, pains in our legs remind us
of it.
At Aghadoe Pier, a steamer is smoking and a
bell ringing as we arrive, and we return delight-
fully to Cork in the cool evening air.
MESMERIC SEANCE. 261
CHAPTER XXVII.
mesmeric seance. — phreno -mesmerism. — number of
churches and chapels in cork. father mathew's
chapel. inscription to the memory of mr. o'connell.
father mathers cemetery. — natural advantages of
cork. exports of cork.
A kind old friend took me yesterday to a
mesmeric seance, in the town of C , which
was most interesting, as Doctor F is a sincere
believer in mesmerism, having tested its efficacy
in the cure of various patients variously affected,
and bringing no theory forward that he has not
proved from personal experience.
In witnessing mesmeric cases at public lectures,
as I have done, one cannot help feeling sceptical,
and a certain distrust of the lecturer or mesmerist
will arise, when gain, not mere love of science,
calls forth their trials of mesmerism. But here
was a person who evidently wished to convince
us of the truth of what he firmly believed himself.
262 MESMERIC SEANCE.
He spoke simply, yet energetically, of mesmerism,
yet honestly owned that to talk about the science,
and profess to understand it, as some lecturers
did, is what he could not do.
All persons, he told us, were not indued with
equal mesmeric powers, as all persons have not
the same nervous system. He himself had never
been mesmerised, and on several occasions he had
failed to produce the mesmeric sleep.
One case he mentioned of a young lady suffer-
ing from a nervous spinal complaint, that for
weeks he had ineffectually tried to mesmerise.
He named to her one of her acquaintances — a
complete sceptic, too, of the mesmeric doctrine —
who had the power of mesmerising her. He was
prevailed on to try, and in five minutes put the
patient into a profound sleep.
Dr. F exhibited for us, as he told us, his
" best patient,'"' a delicate-looking boy of about
twelve years of age, who had been sent to him for
a general debility, from which he had recovered
him. He placed him on a sofa, and sat himself at
a table about three yards apart, and only glanced
at him from time to time. An interval of three
minutes passed ; the boy had naturally and gradu-
ally fallen asleep ; then Doctor F came over
to him, raised his arm ; his touch instantly mes-
PHRENO-MESMERISM. 263
merised it, and it remained extended and quite
stiff until he reversed the passes, and then it
fell de-mesmerised by his side.
He asked me to try if I could mesmerise the
arm. Having taken off my glove, I raised it, and
even tried several passes, but without the slightest
effect. Another of our party then tried, and her
touch had instant effect ; her passes completely
stiffened the arm, and, reversing them, she de-
mesmerised it.
Next, Doctor F gave us specimens of
phreno-mesmerism ; he first touched the organ of
tune and the boy hummed an air in a low tone ;
he " excited "" the organs of self-esteem and firm-
ness, and the boy sung much louder, and then
he breathed on the organs, thereby, as he ex-
plained, doing away with the mesmeric touch.
He successively " excited " the organs of motion
and of caution : the first caused the boy to walk
quickly and carelessly, and the second restrained
his steps into a very cautious pace. Then Doctor
F touched the organ of alimentativeness, or
gustativeness, and holding the boy by the hand
he took a draught of water, the boy at the same
time made the effort of drinking. On exciting
the organ of language he said he was drinking
water ; then Doctor F whispered to us that
264 PHRENO-MESMERISxM.
he would will the water to be beer and milk, which
he did, and the patient appeared to drink as be-
fore, and answered that he drank beer and milk.
I watched the boy's eyes, and they were fast
closed. It would be very easy to imagine an un-
derstanding, without any mesmeric influence, be-
tween the Doctor and his patient, but here there
was no disguise to attempt to deceive us.
After many similar experiments of this kind
he awoke the boy, who certainly, for some
minutes, seemed very drowsy ; after a little time
he placed him outside the door, and then again
mesmerised him by " concentrating his will on
him,'1 and during this sleep, Doctor F and
each of us pinched and pulled the poor boy,
who was quite insensible to pain, and when he
was awakened he remembered nothing of it.
This little seance was to me very interesting
from the entire reliance we could place on the
mesmerist. In these days of discoveries it is
difficult to find anything to surprise the searcher
of the marvellous ; and mesmerism, with all that
has been written upon it, seems now a thoroughly
^ used-up " wonder. But in that quiet old town,
with the simple country doctor, full of faith in
the science he acknowledged too wonderful to
comprehend, there was in that little trial of
INSCRIPTION TO MR. O'CONNELL. %65
mesmerism much to think on, and very much to
awaken interest.
Cork can boast of a great number of churches
and chapels. In our inspection of them we
entered a small Gothic Catholic one, begun many
years ago by Father Mathew, and, like many
other designs in Ireland, left in an unfinished
state, the enterprise proving too great for the
capital.
The citizens of Cork, to honour their apostle
of temperance, are now finishing the building
by subscriptions in his absence in America.
Over the altar is a large painted-glass window,
on the lower part of which, almost hidden from
general observation by the decorations of the
altar, is the following inscription : —
" Sacred in gratitude and affection to the
memory of Daniel CTConnell, the liberator of
his fellow Catholics from the inflictions of the
penal code, and asserter of equal rights of all
communions to civil and religious freedom.
« R. I. P."
Those who honour Mr. O'ConnelFs memory
with "gratitude and affection," will condemn
this very perishable record of their remembrance
N
266 FATHER MATHEW'S CEMETERY.
of him, and will join me in saying that the three
hundred pounds collected in this city for a suit-
able monument had been far better employed in
erecting some lasting memorial where all might
see it, than in expending the money on a church
window, that has not even the merit of being a
handsome one.
From churches to church-yards is a natural
transit, and this morning we wandered about
Father Mathew's cemetery, situated at some little
distance from the city, at its southern side.
This burial-ground is an imitation of the cele-
brated one of Pere la Chaise, in Paris. There
are monuments innumerable, some in excellent
taste; and there are the fitting ornaments of a
grave-yard, " bright, bright flowers," emblems, in
their bloom and speedy decay, of many a young
spirit reposing beneath them ; and there are rare
trees and shrubs, for the site was once a botanical
garden.
The charge for the graves for the poorer classes
here is very moderate, and, to judge by their
number, many apparently of recent date, the
mortality in Cork seems to have been very great
indeed.
By a newly-made grave we came upon a fine
young woman, who, on her knees by it, "told
EXPORTS OF CORK. 267
her beads," with all the fervour of an Irish spirit,
and down whose cheeks tears freely coursed. By
her lay a curly-headed urchin, of a very few years
old, his head reclining against the grave, his up-
turned face, in the bloom and smiles of childhood,
looking at the strangers as they drew near, all
unconscious of the mystery of death so close be-
side him ; yet his father, that he had loved so
well a short month ago, lay beneath that grave,
and the poor widow is come to bid him fare-
well, for she sails with her brother for America
to-morrow.
The natural advantages of Cork are very great
indeed ; all around it lies a rich agricultural
country. Its situation is most admirably adapt-
ed for a manufacturing town, and the merits
and the beauties of its fine harbour are beyond
dispute.
Whether the present discussions as to its eligi-
bility as an American Packet Station will termi-
nate favourably, seems very uncertain ; but the
chance of its being chosen as a port of call is, I
am told, very likely.
The present very great export of Cork is its
butter, which is highly esteemed, and is supplied
to a great amount by the neighbouring county of
Kerry.
n 2
268 EXPORTS OF CORK.
We hear that the breweries and distilleries here
had suffered much from the " cold water-system"
of Father Mathew, but that during recent years
business to a considerable extent has been re-
newed in them, and highly profitable business too,
owing to the fall in grain, and the decline in water-
drinking.
THE UNION OF CHARITY. 269
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE UNION OF CHARITY.
A visitor for some months in the town of
G , during the year 1847, I had ample oppor-
tunities of knowing its saddening records, and the
following little sketch is inscribed, as a trifling
tribute, to the genuine worth which formed such
a Union of Charity.
Heaven's choicest blessings on that zealous bene-
volence which shone forth in the time of need,
and ten thousand blessings on those true-hearted
English friends that knew no differences of country
or of creed in the dark hour of Ireland's want,
but nobly succoured their starving brethren ; ten-
fold may each kind, generous contributor be re-
paid in years of unblighted happiness in their
prosperous English homes.
Far and wide-spread through Ireland has been
the desolation which the round of the past year
brought in its course ; the sad bearer it has been
270 THE UNION OF CHARITY.
of unutterable woe to many, of sorrowing to all ;
for who could unmoved look on, or hear of, the
miseries of gaunt famine, and its attendant evils
of poverty, disease, and death ?
In no spot in this all-afflicted land were the
trials of 1847 more severely felt than in the small
country town of G- , situated in the midst of
the loveliest mountain scenery. Fearful were the
ravages of famine within its peaceful homes,
changing scenes of comfort and contentment to
scenes of bitter sufferings ; and many a kind,
warm heart was silenced there for ever, and
breaking hearts left to mourn.
But, blighted as it was in almost unprecedented
misery, it was doubly blessed by an all-wise Pro-
vidence in the rare benevolence of its inhabit-
ants, whose charitable exertions were untiring,
and who knew no enjoyment in the plenty of
affluence whilst their fellow-men lay perishing
from want.
To try to alleviate the overwhelming distress of
the poorer classes in January, 1847, a visiting
relief society was organized, comprising all the
ladies of the town and immediate neighbourhood,
and it was under the guardianship of the clergy-
men of both religions.
The Society had a weekly meeting every
Wednesday : there were two lady-presidents, two
THE UNION OF CHARITY. 271
secretaries, and a treasurer, and business was
never more satisfactorily managed than in that
humble meeting-room in rural G .
The town was divided into twelve districts ; to
each three or four ladies were appointed as visi-
tors, and one of them kept a book in which the
names of the poor in her district were registered,
the number of their families, their employments,
and capabilities of employment, and an exact
return of the relief afforded to the several fa-
milies.
At least once every week the ladies visited
every house into which poverty had found en-
trance. This system of visiting had peculiar
advantages ; the poor felt their wants were cared
for, and they deeply loved the self-sacrificing zeal
that brought the wealtbv to their side.
What a frightful chaos of utter misery came to
light in these visitations ? What enduring strug-
gles of lives of abject want were found registered
in the dark back-lanes of G ! The wearing
of life slowly but surely away in ceaseless suffer-
ings. And, O God, bless those " ministering
angels " that came forth in that hour of trial and
comforted the afflicted and solaced the weary
spirits on a meeting-day.
I accompanied my young friend, Alice Cun-
ningham, to the committee-room of the Ladies'
272 THE UNION OF CHARITY.
Society, which was in a house on the skirts of the
town.
My young friend stopped to speak to some
acquaintances, and I turned to gaze on the beauti-
ful landscape. It was a bright sunny day ; a slight
frost had cleared the air, and the lofty mountains
around us were capped with snow ; their varied
forms were clearly defined against the deep blue
horizon. A healthy common lay before me, in
the centre of which gleamed a tiny lake, with a
bordering of frost-work glistening in the sun's
beams.
Some children were playing around it, and ruf-
fling its surface with stones, and it struck me how
often in this troubled world, when the surface
looked most bright, most fair, was the calm de-
stroyed by careless hands.
The meeting-room on our entrance was well
filled by old and young and middle-aged ladies:
there were present, too, three gentlemen whom
I discovered to be clergymen. An elderly lady
presided, — she had the sweetest expression of
countenance I ever looked on, and her feeling
heart spoke in the tear that trembled in her soft
grey eye, as with the gentle earnestness of manner
she spoke of the ready benevolence which the calls
of suffering Ireland had met.
One of the secretaries read the list of contribu-
THE UNION OF CHARITY. 273
tions since the last day's meeting. I listened
eagerly. There were names among the contribu-
tors familiar to the great and good in prosperous
England : there were names familiar in poor sor-
rowing Ireland ; there were contributions from
France, and from powerful America ; and I
marked many an anxious glance towards the
treasurer as she divided the sum into twelve
parts, and allotted one to each district.
" How delightful, Alice," said a very young girl
near me to my friend ; " we get 10/. this week to
distribute in our district, and last week we had
but sir
The meeting lasted three hours. The several
district-books were carefully looked over ; not a
shilling of the funds was misapplied. Alice
then joined the two ladies named to her district,
and with them I went on their mission of
charity.
The following too true record of our first visit
on that day will best illustrate my sketch of the
u Union of Charity." We stood before a wretched
cabin, from which the thatch was partly blown
away ; we pushed in the half-closed door, and
when we could see in the dim light within, after
the glare of the bright sunshine outside, we saw
the utter desolation of that miserable home. It
N 5
274 THE UNION OF CHARITY.
was one room, and the only window had been
darkened.
A tall, and apparently young woman, stood up
from a broken stool ; she held two children to her
breasts — one a young baby, and the other a child
of a year old ; she was suckling both.
By the few dying embers on the hearth
crouched the husband, in a state of complete
stupor from the fever of starvation ; his haggard
cheek told its own tale. By him, on the floor,
sat a pretty child of four years old, with her curly
head resting on his knee. She had fallen asleep,
and her poor little thin arm was round the neck of
a dog who lay beside her, and who moaned pi-
teously from time to time.
On a heap of straw by the fire, — yet fire it
could not be called — lay a young woman in fever,
covered with a tattered cloak.
I looked around for some signs of comfort. Of
furniture, the miserable dwelling alone contained
a tottering table, on which was a wooden bowl, a
broken cup, and one plate : there was a turf basket
in one corner, and some straw in another.
The pale mother's clothing, and that of the
children, was scanty in the extreme ; for clothes
and articles of furniture had been sold, one by
one, to keep death away.
" We are come with relief to you, my good
THE UNION OF CHARITY. 215
woman," said one of the visitors ; " you shall
have food for the children, some medicines and
drinks for the sick ; try to hope for better
days."
"Relief! food! oh, God! oh, God!" ex-
claimed the poor woman wildly, and she threw
herself on her knees, and convulsive sobs almost
choked her utterance. " Oh, God is good !
Praise be to his holy name," burst from her in-
most heart, in the unmistakable accents of real
piety. " Oh, Bill, my darling," said she, em-
bracing her hushand ; " don't you hear relief —
food ? Cheer up, don't be down-hearted ; we '11
get food for the children ; you '11 get drinks, ma
chree, and the children and the old dog won't cry
any more with the hunger," and tears came freely
from a breaking heart.
And what was the tale this forlorn family had
to tell ? Alas ! a too common one, of despair-
ing want, stamped in characters of woe in the
flight of the past year.
The poor husband, a labourer, with ten pence
per diem, had cheerfully toiled to support his
family ; and, in ordinary years of plenty, the
very moderate sum of five shillings weekly had
kept them from want. But famine came, and
famine prices, and one scanty meal each day was
all they could hope for, and not once during nine
216 THE UNION OF CHARITY.
weeks had the mother eaten enough. She was
starving herself for her husband and children,
and a look at her wasted form spoke the truth
of this.
Ten days before our visit the husband had re-
turned, late at night, from his work ; fever was
on him, and since then he had been too ill to
resume his occupation.
On the common, near the town, he had found
a poor stranger, lying almost senseless with an
infant in her arms. She was an English woman
who had married an Irish carpenter in Liverpool,
and had come over with him to Ireland the pre-
vious autumn. He had died of fever, and she
found herself reduced to the extremity of want,
perishing with her baby, when the poor labourer
brought her to his lowly home, where she lay so
kindly cared for by utter strangers.
The mother took the starving baby to her
bosom, and suckled it as tenderly as she did her
own ; and it throve surprisingly, and laughed
and crowed, all unconscious of the misery
looked on.
The wretched family that day had literally
tasted nothing. The little child, asleep near the
sick father, and a brother who was not in the
cabin, had lived the previous day on some curds
from the whey which the poor mother had sold her
THE UNION OF CHARITY. 277
petticoat to buy for her husband and the stranger.
She had eaten herself a handful of meal, given
to her by a poor neighbour, and the peels of some
turnips her little boy had brought to her ! and
with this food she strove to nurse two children !
The very beautiful legend told us in " Childe
Harold, " of the daughter preserving her father's
life, is scarcely more touching than this.
" Oh mammy ! mammy ! " exclaimed a fine
little boy about eight years old, running into the
dark cabin, u here is some soup a good gentleman
in the street gave me tickets for ; " and seeing
strangers, he blushed and put the jug of soup
near his mother.
" And have you taken none of it ? " asked Alice,
for his pale thin face told of hunger.
" No, Miss, I did not," said he, "I came away
with it from the soup-house the minute I got
it ; " and, pointing to his mother, he added, in a
whisper, — " She must be very hungry, for she
never eats ! "
The good little boy ! how his eyes gleamed
with joy as he fed his little sister from the broken
tea-cup, and the poor dog got his share.
An elderly lady of our party — a Joe Hume in
her way — asked why they kept a dog, and times
so very bad ?
The mother said she could not part with that
278 THE UNION OF CHARITY.
dog, for he had belonged to a brother that died,
and was left to her eare by another brother, who
had gone the previous year to America.
A few hours effected a happy change in this
miserable dwelling. The poor father was removed
to the Fever Hospital. Alas ! it was crowded
to excess ; but the good physicians were un-
tiring in their attendance, and, to leave the poor
man in his lowly home, risked the lives of its
inmates.
An abundant supply of fresh straw was laid
down for the sick stranger — a warm blanket re-
placed the tattered cloak ; the fire was kindled,
the hearth swept up, the patient mother and the
children were supplied with necessary clothing,
and a substantial meal given to them.
What dried their tears that night but the
" Union of Charity ? "
The benevolent Society of Friends had sup-
plied the Society with rice, meal, and biscuits :
a Ladies' Clothing Society in England had sent a
large supply of ready-made clothes to G , and
an Irish Society had sent money, which was laid
out in straw and blankets. And was all this
generous relief mis-applied ?
In three days we again visited this poor family ;
we found the poor wife crying bitterly, with a
subdued sorrow ; her second child was dying of
THE UNION OF CHARITY. 279
fever, and close beside her little bed of straw lay
the dog, watching her every motion.
The husband had died that morning in the
Hospital ; and, added to her grief for him, was
the horror that he whom she had loved so ten-
derly should be buried without a coffin.
" Oh ! to think that the hungry worms should
eat away the heart that was so good and so kind
to me and the children ! " exclaimed she, pas-
sionately; "that the mouth that was never opened
with one angry word to me should have no cover-
ing but the cold sod ! " and such floods of tears,
as I trust never again to witness, came from her
breaking heart.
The child died that night, and it was buried in
a large decent coffin with the father. The evening
of the funeral the poor widow called on us ;
she was scarcely able to utter her thanks, and a
fervent blessing, spoken with sobs, best told her
deep gratitude.
A month from our first visit saw the widow in
renewed health, nursing still the strangers baby,
and attending carefully its poor mother, who was
yet too weak to leave the humble shelter that had
saved her life.
The Society had furnished the widow with em-
ployment in spinning and knitting ; and though
her gains were small they helped to support her
280 THE UNION OF CHARITY.
family, and her boy worked cheerfully every day
on some public works.
At a weekly meeting the kind lady-president
mentioned the case of the poor English stranger,
and a private subscription was quickly raised for
her : it seemed only like paying the interest of
her country's charity. In a few weeks more she
was able to leave the wretchedness of G , and
join her own family in Liverpool.
Scenes upon scenes of heart-rending misery
came quickly upon each other in G ; the beau-
tiful summer shone in almost redoubled sunshine,
shining on human sufferings in their most harrow-
ing forms.
A visit to our poor widow's cabin, on a lovely
June afternoon, brought us a pleasing surprise.
She had just got a letter from her brother in
America, enclosing her ample money to pay her
passage to Boston, and that he urged her to join
him is most true. She left G with a grateful
heart, her two children in health and strength,
and we heard of their safe arrival in America,
of the brother's welcome, of his especial joy in
seeing his dog again, and of the poor widow's
prospect of a life of comfort.
The stranger accompanied them from Liver-
pool, and I hope that in their new life, free from
THE UNION OF CHARITY. 281
all want, they may remember their past days of
misery with beneficial results.
In November, 1847, the Ladies' Relief Society
of G was dissolved. How many lives were
preserved, how much misery softened by their
gentle ministry, none save an eye-witness of that
misery can imagine !
Forty-seven is past, and may poor suffering
Ireland never see a return of such a season !
yet, side by side with many a black tale of woe,
rise the bright deeds of blessed self-sacrificing
charity in the annals of its circle. On high may
they be recorded in the annals that no time can
efface ! "
282 THE UNION WORK-HOUSE
CHAPTER XXIX.
MALLOW. — EXCELLENT MANAGEMENT OF ITS UNION WORK-
HOUSE. YOUGHAL. CAPPOQUIN. VISIT TO MOUNT MEL-
LARAY. A PROTESTANT HORSE. MONASTERY ON MOUNT
MELLARAY. ARRANGEMENTS OF THE ESTABLISHMENT.
A not very rapid transit by railway in these
days of speed, brought us from Cork to Mallow,
a distance of about twenty miles. The town is a
pretty one, a richly cultivated country lying partly
about it. After visiting its old castle, we turned
our steps to the Poor-house, my visit in 1844
to the Tralee Poor-house, being full in my'
mind.
The Union Work-house is situated on the side
of a hill, close to the Railway, and not far from
the Station ; its internal arrangements, especially
the scrupulous cleanliness everywhere apparent,
gratified us much. Indeed, if such a visit failed
in recalling to our minds the disastrous state to
which the country is now reduced, we might have
derived unmixed pleasure from it.
AT MALLOW. 283
But, making every allowance for the admixture
of this bitter ingredient, much remained to strike
us at the time, and to be deemed worthy of
record in after moments.
Industry, as far as the regulations of the Poor
Law Commissioners will permit, was everywhere
encouraged. The young inmates — who form a
very large proportion of the whole, more than half
at the period of our visit — returned as being
under fifteen years of age, were particularly at-
tended to, and it was most pleasant to see the
perfect neatness of their dress.
Trades of various kinds are taught them, and
their labours are applied to the support of the
House. Thus nearly all the clothing used is ma-
nufactured within the establishment, and a doubly
useful result is attained : the inmates are saved
from the pernicious consequences of idleness — dan-
gerous always, but in a crowded work-house,
absolutely fatal, — and, on the other hand, the
rate-payers are saved from a vast and unnecessary
expense, the first cost of the materials being almost
the sole item which they have to defray.
It is, also, hopeful to think, that these young
creatures will be enabled in after years to earn a
competence by the exercise of that skill and in-
dustry to which they have been trained, whether
as emigrants to a distant clime in which there
284 THE UNION WORK-HOUSE
may be scope and prospect of profit for their
labours, or in the still more cheering, but alas !
too unlikely event of a renewed demand for the
handiwork of the Irish artizan in the afflicted land
of his birth.
While on the subject, it would be unjust to
omit a tribute of praise to the guardians of the
Mallow Union for the excellent way in which
not only the work-house, but the general business
of the union is managed.
They have had one great help in the shape of
the Great Southern and Western Railway, the
works of which traverse the union from north to
south along what mathematicians would call its
major diameter. This has enabled them to get
rid of that great difficulty which has beset the
Poor Law administration in most parts of the
south and west of Ireland — the concession of out-
door relief.
But this alone would not have sufficed, had not
the board of guardians been composed of men
adequate to the trying occasion, and combining a
due consideration of the real wants of the poor,
with a prudent attention to the burthens on the
property of their district.
There has also been an absence of those divi-
sions, or rather squabbles, which in some other
unions have reflected so much disgrace on the
AT MALLOW. 285
country, and caused such permanent injury to her
best interests.
Whether it has been the class interests of land-
lords and tenants that have been arrayed one
against the other in a fictitious but most destructive
hostility ; whether it has been the senseless outcry
of a specious but spurious philanthropy that has
shown an indiscriminating sympathy with that
poverty which comes on the rates for relief, quite
forgetting the nearly equal, but more deserving
poverty, which struggles to earn the means of
paying those very rates ; or, worst of all, whether
religious discussions have been introduced to ag-
gravate the bitterness of other subjects of conten-
tion ; certain it is, that in all these cases not
only have the hands of the sneerer and the scoffer
against Ireland been strengthened, but all pro-
spect of amelioration must be postponed until the
day when these dissensions shall be healed, and
the hostile parties brought to the conviction that
in a crisis of affairs like the present, their first
and greatest duty is to co-operate for the common
welfare, irrespectively of all differences of class,
of race, of political opinions, or of religious faith.
" Hold !" cries M , " we have had quite
enough of this; we are travellers by the way
side, and must not linger too long over grave
discussions on these serious subjects."
286 VISIT TO MOUNT MELLARAY.
Bidding adieu to Cork at seven o'clock, a hazy
misty morning, we come by a river steamer to
Queenstown, thence by a row-boat to Aghadoe pier,
where we hire cars to convey us to Youghal.
A pleasant drive through a well-cultivated
country brings us to that old town, a hasty in-
spection of which we have only time for, as the
tiny steamer that is to convey us to Cappoquin is
smoking at the quay, and in it we steam up the
noble Blackwater.
Most beautiful the river is winding round richly
wooded head-lands, the first tinges of autumn
showing among the trees. Now we have a pretty
cottage peeping out, now a handsome country-
house, and now a ruined, and now a modern castle.
The tide and current are both against us, but
the weather is delicious, and it is pleasant to
loiter amid such scenery. Late in the evening we
land at Cappoquin, and willingly profit by the
hospitality of its modest " Inn.'"
A pilgrimage to Mount Mellaray is our next
morning's work. Modern pilgrims as we are, we
travel not in " sandal shoes and scallop shell," but
on the unfailing car, with a goodly array of blue
and green veils and parasols to preserve the ladies''
complexions.
There is a gradual ascent from Cappoquin to
Mount Mellaray, and one of our horses evidently
MONASTERY ON MOUNT MELLARAY. 287
dislikes the pilgrimage very much, for beating
and coaxing are alike unavailing in inducing him
to do more than turn round and round with
the car.
16 He 's a Protestant horse, yer honour, bought
from a parson, and doesn't like to go to the
monks," said an idler among the many collected
around us.
However, his Anti-Catholic notions were effec-
tually removed by a draught of whiskey, and
he took us very briskly to the convent.
The distance from Cappoqnin is about three
miles, and as we neared the plain grey monastic
pile, the perfect stillness of its mountain solitude
struck us forcibly, broken as we came up the
avenue by a sweet-toned bell tolling the Angelus.
We were shown into a visitor's parlour, where
a brother waited on us and offered to point out
what was permitted to be seen in the monastery.
The room we were then in was that occupied by
Mr. O'Connell during his visit and retreat here
in 1838.
The land around the convent has been brought
into high cultivation by the labour of the monks.
It was on their arrival a bleak barren tract, and
now thriving crops attest their skill as agricul-
turists.
An interesting boys' school is attached to the
288 MONASTERY ON MOUNT MELLARAY.
monastery, and on our examining a junior class
in it, in their catechism, in reading, arithmetic,
and the elements of geography, we found that
the good monks are as successful tillers of the
mental as of the earthly soil.
Walking about the eastern buildings and the
garden we saw different monks at their trades
and occupations, not one raised their eyes to look
at the strangers, but diligently continued their
work.
The rule followed here, the same as that of
La Trappe, is most severe ; the monks preserve a
perpetual fast on vegetable diet, and a perpetual
silence — the abbot, the guest-brother, and those
brothers employed in the school are of necessity
exempted from the latter observance.
These monks are settled here since 183 J,
when they were expelled from France, and Sir
Richard Rane gave them a lease of 999 years, at
a nominal rent, of 575 acres of waste mountain-
land, which their patient industry has brought to
its present aspect.
Ah, would that their industrious perseverance
could find imitators throughout Ireland, and then
our uncultivated tracts of country would yield sub-
sistence to the hundreds who toil for it in distant
homes.
We entered the church, a very simple building,
MONASTERY ON MOUNT MELLARAY. 289
the gentlemen of the party being allowed to walk
through the choir, whilst the ladies were only per-
mitted a survey of it from the " Rood-loft."
There were some monks at prayer in their
stalls, looking like statues, so immovable were
they ; yet the strangers must have recalled their
thoughts to the absent world.
The guest-brother touched the organ for us,
and the air he played was from a requiem mass,
so appropriate to the living-death of the brother-
hood.
On our return to the little parlour a frugal lun-
cheon of monastic fare was set before us, and we
bid Mount Mellaray adieu, pleased with our pil-
grimage.
290 LISMORE.
CHAPTER XXX.
LISMORE. FERMOY. RETURN TO DUBLIN. FALLING OFF IN
TRADE. — SUPPOSED CONSEQUENCES OF ABOLISHING THE VICE-
ROYSHIP. DECREASE IN POPULATION. EMIGRATION THE
CHIEF CAUSE. EMIGRATION LIKELY TO CONTINUE. — LOVE OF
FATHERLAND. REFLECTIONS ON EMIGRATION.
The drive from Cappoquin to Lismore is
through a finely wooded and rich country, and
the latter town very prettily situated and quite
gay now with the hospitalities of the Duke of
Devonshire.
Lismore was anciently a place of great renown,
famous for its university, in which King Alfred is
said to have studied. The Castle is very pic-
turesquely situated overhanging the Blackwater,
and the window is shown from which James the
Second drew back in a fright when he saw the
height from which he looked.
Fermoy is our next halting-place, and is fa-
voured, too, in its situation. In its neighbourhood
are several very handsome country residences : a
FALLING OFF IN TRADE. 291
few years ago the scenes of delightful hospitality,
now mostly deserted, grass growing on the un-
cared for walks, and many of them being sold by
their owners.
1851.
A fine line of railway is open from Cork to
Dublin, and too truly we see that the latter city
has not improved since our last visit.
There are many shops shut up, which were then
in apparently thriving business, houses to be let,
and estates by hundreds for sale in the Incum-
bered Estates Court.
This falling off in the trade and prosperity of
the city is only the beginning of what must be
expected, we are assured, if the Lord Lieutenant
be removed from Ireland.
To listen to all the arguments used in favour of
keeping the Viceroy in the country, a stranger
would imagine the whole population of Dublin
was dependent for its daily bread on the actual
expenditure of the Castle Court, — yet this is not
so ; a few tradesmen may be benefited, but no real
friend of Ireland can believe the tenure of the
office necessary, or even beneficial to the best
interests of the country.
Wiser pens than mine will decide the question,
o 2
292 EMIGRATION LIKELY TO CONTINUE.
though assuredly not one will be guided by a
more sincere wish for the independent prosperity
of Ireland.
Many tell me that what will most seriously
affect the future prospects of the country is, the
immense decrease of late years in the population ;
the official returns of the census this year showing
a falling off in numbers of over two millions ; and
going back we find that the population of 1821
exceeded that of 1851 by 296,033; and yet be-
tween 1831 and 1841 there was an increase of
407,723.
Famine and pestilence have sorely thinned the
numbers ; but it is emigration that has really de-
cimated the country, sending thousands, alas ! in
the prime and vigour of life to seek a livelihood in
foreign lands.
Those who regret this enormous decrease, judge
favourably, and it may be a little too sanguinely
of the capabilities of Ireland to support her mil-
lions ; — no one can deny the fertility of her soil,
nor the thousands of acres of waste lands, want-
ing, however, it should be remembered, capital as
well as hands to make them productive.
All who know the country and its people agree
that emigration will not stop here. Strong family
affections are stronger even than the love of an
REFLECTIONS ON EMIGRATION. 293
Irishman for the laud of his birth ; and as year
after year goes by, the different members of the
family left in Ireland, have worked, and will work,
their way through, almost incredible hardships and
privations to join their emigrant son or brother in
America. Letters come to the old home, tell-
ing of -the more hopeful destiny that awaits them
in their new home ; and, on this encouragement,
aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends leave poor Ire-
land; yet often, as I have seen, with breaking
hearts.
So true it is that nature has deeply laid within
us the love of country ; and however distant the
land in which our fates have been cast, our
thoughts fondly and faithfully revert to our father-
land.
" We love our parents," says Cicero, " we love
our children, relations and friends ; but the love
of country includes in itself the universal love of
alL" " Nor should we love our country the
less," writes the same author, 6' because she is
deformed with calamities ; we should rather pity
her."
" It is well that the tide of emigration should
continue," says the political economist, " for Ire-
land cannot support her superabundant popula-
tion." And it is well for many among the emigrants
294 REFLECTIONS ON EMIGRATION.
to go do I feel, for the country is too poor to keep
them.
Years must pass before she can cease to suffer
from the heavy burden of the poor-rates ; and
should the experiences of the past land-owners
teach the present generation a useful lesson —
should the relations of landlord and tenant, and
tenant and landlord, each " sinned against and
sinning," be radically improved, Ireland will see
brighter days, and be able to welcome back her
own.
A few years hence and we know that the vast
flow of immigration will have converted many an
acre of primeval forest in Western America into
complete Irish villages ; the race springing up
there may have improved in thrifty industrious
habits, but constant in the traditions of its faith
and its fathers, it will still cling with love to the
old land ; and the children and children's children
will learn that Ireland ever will be : —
" More dear in its sorrow, its gloom, and its showers,
Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hours."
Our wanderings in Ireland, past and present, end
here. Pausing in retrospect, the past comes now
vividly before me in painful contrast with the pre-
sent, and I see the smiling faces that beamed
REFLECTIONS ON EMIGRATION. 295
kindly welcomes on us in many a pleasant home :
in the former, alas ! how altered in the latter by
the changes of the times.
Ah ! would that I could believe as earnestly as
I wish it, " There 's a good time coming," and
that a happy future will obliterate the wrongs of
Ireland past, and soften the remembrance of the
sufferings of Ireland present !
THE END,
LONDON :
Printed by Samuel Bf.ni lev and Co.
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.
DATE DUE
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